A King's Heart
by MidnightRose72
Summary: There was no love in The Elven King of Mirkwood, but as the shadow that plagues the forest grows darker and they fight to defend their homeland, Tauriel will realize that beneath the cold and indifferent breast of the King beats a heart...one just as fragile and broken as her own. (Rated M for further chapters) Takes place after Battle of the Five Armies.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

She heard the soft patter of feet but didn't care if it was a stray Orc. If it was, then her end would be quick and she'd follow him into the shadows but when she lifted her eyes she saw her King standing there. She looked back down at Kili before raising her eyes skyward, her chest tightening.

"They wish to bury him?" Her words came out barely a whisper but Thranduil heard them.

"Yes." He answered softly and she shook her head, her eyes returning to Kili's still face.

"If this is love, I do not want it." She bit her bottom lip while closing her eyes. "Take it from me," she raised her eyes to his, begging him. "Please." She whispered but Thranduil remained silent and she choked back the sob that rose in her throat, her eyes straying shut. "Why does it hurt so much?" She demanded while lifting her eyes to his once more. He looked deeply into them, iciness melting to show her an emotion that nearly made her forget her own grief, if only for a moment.

"Because it was real." His words echoed with pain, pain that she was only just beginning to understand and her eyes widened. The cold King she had known in all her years of service was gone, showing her the one beneath the cold mask of indifference and ice. For once she saw him as he truly was.

A broken, vulnerable King…

His blue eyes closed and he drew in a small breath, shaking his head lightly but when his eyes opened once more, emotion was gone from them, turning them hard and cold once more. She lowered her head, realizing that she'd been mesmerized by him in his time of weakness and gazed back down at Kili's face.

She shuddered, the grief flooding her heart, and her hand was still clasped tightly in that of Kili's. He lay before her, his eyes closed and if not for the blood that soaked the ground or the utter stillness of his body she would have thought him asleep.

But she knew better…

She bit back the sob, bending over and pressing her face to his chest, breathing in his musky scent that was tinged with the smell of blood. This time she could not hold back the wretched sound that left her throat and she clutched tighter to Kili's body.

"I'm sorry, so sorry." She whispered, her voice broken.

Just like her heart…

Kili had been buried in a beautiful tomb next to his brother, Fili and his uncle, Thorin. He'd been dressed in glittering armor, his head wearing a crown of silver while beneath his breast plate, just over his heart, curled a soft lock of her hair. The Arkenstone had been buried with Thorin so that the accursed gem could cause no farther harm but as the final slabs of stone were pushed into place Thranduil produced Orcrist, the blade Thorin had carried, and placed it upon his tomb. He'd whispered a final enchantment, bidding the Dwarf find his peace in death.

Peace in death…

She carried the thought in her heart and endured, as Thranduil told her she would do. The Elvenking had ordered her return to the Mirkwood and it had surprised her, but after learning that Legolas had left she no longer questioned Thranduil's commands, knowing the reason she returned with them. The long march home was slow and torturous due to the wounded and Tauriel would have stayed with them, tending to their needs, anything to take her mind from her own loss but Thranduil had forbid it, ordering her to stay by his side.

Aside from the brisk order, he did not acknowledge her in any way and they rode in silence at the front of the Elves, but Tauriel noticed the guards and their expressions. Tauriel kept her nerves tight, knowing that she was under watch but the gaze that was always so scrutinizing, so piercing, never flickered to her.

Not once…

It suddenly pained her, the thought like a slap across the face and she shrank from it, sinking down into her saddle. The movement caused Thranduil to turn his head, ever so lightly, to gaze upon her and her gut twisted as it always did when he looked at her with those eyes of his.

Since his elk had fallen in battle he now rode a white stallion, a touch of gray in the animal's mane. The beast walked a few steps ahead of her own mare, given to her by the King no less, and she ducked her head, refusing to meet his eyes and after his gaze returned forward she bit her lip, the courage fleeing from her chest but as she opened her mouth to speak Thranduil paused, halting his stallion and lifting his hand.

As one the Elves halted, no one daring to make a sound as Thranduil listened. Even the forest had fallen silent and Tauriel felt the wind change. Her muscles tensed, coiling tightly but Thranduil kept his hand raised as his eyes ran over the thick trees. The shadows seemed to tremble and Thranduil's eyes widened a fraction of a moment before they narrowed and his sword was drawn. A metallic rang echoed throughout the clearing and the Elves stationed behind them jumped, going for their swords just as the forest burst. Limbs and leaves rained down on them as black bodies shot from the depths of the shadows and Tauriel's heart stopped when she realized what they were.

Orcs…

They bellowed, lifting their weapons high and Thranduil's stallion reared, knocking her mare to the side. He shouted something in Elvish, his order to form a front line breaking through the sudden and violent chaos. A moment later he was obeyed and the Elves slid in place, standing shoulder to shoulder before swinging their blades in unison. The first wave of Orcs crashed into them and Thranduil pulled in the prancing stallion, commanding the archers. Arrows flew through the air, buzzing with ferocity before embedding themselves between the armor of the Orcs.

During all this Tauriel had retreated to the archers, going for her own bow but finding it gone. She mentally swore, whipping her mare around and standing at the front to command them. Just as she did another wave swept down from the left and she narrowed her eyes. The injured were behind them and if they didn't have aide from the infantry that was protecting the front then they'd be overwhelmed. If they lost this side then there'd be no hope. She drew her daggers, for the first time wishing that she carried a sword, and looked to the archers. A moment of understanding passed between herself and the soldiers there. They drew their bows, drawing the arrows tight and Tauriel drew in a small breath, calming both her heart and mind.

The volley of arrows were released, the first line of Orcs crumbling to the reveal a line of Goblins. Tauriel clenched her jaw, kicking her mare forward just as the line of archers turned, falling back behind the line behind them. These drew their daggers, locking shoulders to form one solid line. The Goblins swept down on them, their lips parting as their high pitched shrieks filled the air. The Elves parted, swarming behind them to drive their daggers into the major organs that had been exposed due to the Goblin's erratic swings. Tauriel whipped her horse around, riding through the line of Goblins and slashing out with her dagger and catching them along their exposed throats. She turned, coming about and caught Thranduil doing the same from the other side. Three Orcs charged him and his stallion reared, lashing out with his deadly hooves to strike one but the other two lunged to the side, hefting their curved blades. A silver blade flashed in the sun and black blood sprayed the air as one of the Orc's heads was separated from its shoulders. It rolled clear and Thranduil twisted, slicing clean the arm from the other Orc's body. The Elvenking's face was icy calm; his eyes shining brightly from the battle as he swiftly dispatched the rest of the Orc. He turned and for a moment their eyes met across the battlefield. For a moment she thought she saw a glimmer of respect enter his blue eyes but it vanished as they widened in panic. Before she could ponder the change, something slammed into her mare. The horse cried out in pain as she rolled and Tauriel was thrown free from the horse's thrashing body. She landed hard on her side, one of her daggers slipping from her hands to skid away across the now gore smeared earth.

She heard someone shouting something, perhaps one of the lieutenants, and rolled onto her back while pushing herself to her feet. A moment later a barbed sword imbedded the spot where she had just fallen. She stumbled back, her eyes widening as she beheld the creature before her. She did not know what it was but it was not Goblin nor Orc, and its eyes…

They were dark and feral, gleaming with intelligence and the sight unnerved her. The beast easily stood at nine feet, perhaps if not ten and rippled with muscles that seemed to pulse with rage but it was not a mindless rage and perhaps if it had been Tauriel would not have felt the shiver race up her spine.

She did not fear for her life, no she was a warrior, but what she _did _fear for were the lives of the wounded and rest of her comrades. She knew this beast to be the leader of the ambush, for it wore better armor than the rest, the plates heavy and thick, cushioned with pelts while its sword was of better craftsmanship, resting easily in its hand. By its stance she knew that it knew how to use it and by how its eyes fastened upon her single dagger, it knew she was at a disadvantage.

It hefted the sword, grunting and gesturing to her and anger floored inside her chest. She drew her dagger, noting that a circle had formed around them. She widened her stance, her mind emptying of everything except for the new enemy that stood across from her. The creature grunted once more, its lips parting to reveal jagged, plaque covered teeth to sneer at her and even from where she stood she could smell the stench of rotting flesh.

A silent signal was given and as one they both lunged at the other. Tauriel, knowing that her dagger would do her no good far away came in close but the beast seemed to know this and sidestepped, swinging its sword wide. Tauriel narrowed her eyes and brought her dagger up but as their blades met the force of them colliding caused tremors to run up her arm. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain and went to pivot so that the force of the creature's blow would cause it to lose its balance but before she could the beast took a step forward, forcing her back. She knew testing her strength against the hulking creature would only result in her death so she switched tactics.

Relying on her swiftness, she flicked her wrist up, forcing the barbed blade above her head. She lunged in, catching it along its ribs but the armor proved too thick and instead of a fatal wound it only left a shallow gash. She came up behind the creature, flipping the dagger in her hand so that she could drive it to the hilt into the beast's neck but it whirled, faster than any Goblin or Orc she'd seen before. She yanked herself back but was too slow and the blade slid along her stomach, the tip of the blade catching her skin. It was just below her ribs and she heard the rip of fabric but it wasn't the pain that nearly caused her to cripple.

It was the pouch…

The small leather pouch she'd tied around her neck fell to the ground and she stared at it. Suddenly images pounded through her head, memories that she didn't want surfaced to torment her for inside that pouch lay a lock of Kili's dark hair.

Kili…

His name echoed inside her head and she lunged forward, her hand reaching for the small bundle but she caught the blade coming for her. Survival took over and she changed direction, rolling to the right and slashing at the creature's arm. It grunted in anger more so than pain and bounded towards her. Luck was on her side when she managed to slide past its defenses, landing another gash along the creatures exposed thigh. This time it bellowed, the anger seemingly to make the air tremble, before lumbering after her. It swung the blade and she twisted her body, the long shallow gash pulsing with pain but it only heightened her senses. She came underneath the blade, stepping in close but as she lifted her dagger to slice at its exposed throat she watched as it _smiled _at her.

Then its hand was around her throat…

She gasped, drawing in a small breath of air before it was cut off. Her feet were lifted from the ground and she brought her dagger up, barely able to deflect the blade from running her through. Her eyes glimpsed the pouch behind the beast and her heart trembled, her mind slipping and the beast chuckled, the sound raw and wet in its throat as it caught her lowered guard. It lifted its blade, the light catching the jagged ends and Tauriel tensed and twisted, driving her dagger into its arm. It grunted, its grip loosening, and she brought in a breath of clean air before it was cut off again. It shook her, as if she were a child, before lifting her higher and she felt her vision turning dark.

This time when it lifted the blade she knew she could not deflect it and her eyes strayed to the pouch once more. Her heart suddenly calmed, peace filling her as she thought that it would be over soon, that the emptiness inside her would end.

Then she'd be with him…

She lifted her eyes to that of the beast's and quietly gave in, knowing that there was nothing she could do and accepting it. The beast snickered and shifted its body, lifting the arm higher.

Then brought it down…

Something streaked past her and Tauriel watched, unbelieving as the arm that had been holding the barbed blade flew free. The creature shrieked in agony, dropping her to the forest floor and she gasped, drawing in raw breaths of air that seemed to burn her lungs. She forced herself back, her eyes staring up at the creature as it held its arm by the stump. It glared at her before swiveling around and Tauriel's eyes fell on her savior.

Thranduil sat atop his stallion, the horse's side bathed in the creature's gruesome blood and a few streaks marked Thranduil's face. The sight reminded Tauriel of when she'd threatened him back in the City of Dale. He'd looked similar, his face filled with cold fury but the look that graced his face now paled in comparison to that of this one. His eyes were narrowed, blue fire raging behind them and the intensity reminded her of dragon fire and would have melted steel. He turned the stallion, the intent to _kill _pouring from him like nothing she'd ever seen before. The stallion shrieked, bounding into the air and charging the creature. It whimpered, stumbling back but was too slow and Thranduil's blade flashed, faster than a striking snake, and the creature jolted, the front of its armor now bearing a long, deep gash. It glanced down at it, its face contorting into shock and pain before slumping forward onto the ground.

Tauriel stared at the creature, her mind blank but she caught the sight of the pouch and sat up, crawling to it and as her fingers closed around it Thranduil pulled his stallion up beside her. She could still feel the anger coursing from him and an icy chill raced down her back but she brought the pouch against her chest, clutching it tightly as her throat closed with the threat of tears.

"My King!" A voice shouted behind her and Tauriel realized that the remaining force of Orcs and Goblins either lay around her dead or whimpering from their fatal injuries. The death of their leader had scattered them and she heard footfalls but the firm voice stopped them.

"Tend to the wounded." Thranduil commanded and the footfalls stopped. Tauriel felt more than saw Thranduil dismount from his stallion and his fine leather boots halted just beside her head. She didn't turn and face him, feeling that if she did then he'd see how weak she'd become.

She couldn't stand it…

"Tauriel." Even though he said her name the tone of his voice was a command, a command to look at him and slowly she did, lifting her eyes to his stony face. "Stand up." His eyes were shining with that same fury and she clenched her jaw. Bringing her arm across her midsection she did, but the wound pulsed with pain. She stopped, drawing in a small breath and Thranduil's lips thinned, his face hardening even more and she wanted to shrink from him, to fall into the shadows of the forest and never return but then he did something that shocked her to her core.

He knelt…

He knelt before her, his eyes on her wound and she blinked but he lifted his head, his eyes falling to the wagons that were being loaded with the injured. They came back to her wound, the blue depths seemingly to sear it.

"It is a shallow cut and does not appear to be poisoned." He stood and his face softened for a moment before the coldness replaced it along with a fury she did not understand. "Stand, Tauriel." This time his voice was low, dangerously so and she knew that if she did not obey things would only worsen. Not having the energy to fight him she curled her fingers tighter around the pouch and forced herself to stand, the pain numbing her brain. She kept her head lowered but instead of Thranduil calming at her submission he only seemed to grow in anger. She could feel it radiating from him, sinking into her skin and she frowned, confused.

Why was he so angry?

Had she not obeyed him instead of defying him, instead of arguing with him?

"Retrieve a fresh tunic and have a healer tend to your wound." These words he said to her but he turned, his eyes falling on the other Elves. "Prepare to leave in ten minutes." He ordered while striding back over to his awaiting stallion. The animal had calmed but still bore the blood of the creature and the sight made Tauriel's eyes fall back to the lifeless form behind her.

"Tauriel." The gentle voice could only belong to a healer and Tauriel lifted her eyes to see an Elf with long blonde hair and gentle blue eyes. The left side of her face was covered in dirt, as were parts of the simple dress she wore but she appeared to be unscathed. "Please, come this way." She gestured to the back of a wagon and wordlessly Tauriel followed after her, keeping the pouch tight against her chest.

Her wound was treated with care and Tauriel ducked her head when she saw the more seriously wounded but the healer, her name Elanor, was kind and treated her with a gentle hand. After her wound was wrapped and she was given a fresh tunic she thanked the Elf and went to step from the wagon but Elanor reached out and gently touched her arm.

"I am sorry," she murmured and Tauriel paused, looking back at her with a slight look of shock on her face and Elanor's blue eyes drifted down to the pouch Tauriel still held tightly to her chest. "I am sorry, for your loss." The passionate words made Tauriel's throat close and she nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak, before she all but fled the back of the wagon.

The wounded were loaded, the old making way for the new and Thranduil once again led the march through the woods. This time he did not order Tauriel to stay be at his side and she made no move to join him at the front, choosing to march with the Elves who stayed behind him. The forest was silent, as if regarding them with a sense of foreboding. It was nearly sunset when they reached the halls, the Elves who had remained pouring forth to help tend to the wounded and weary. Tauriel stayed off to the side, helping whenever she was needed but otherwise keeping to herself, for she saw how Thranduil commanded his troops. He was still angry, though his face did not show it but they'd been in enough heated arguments that she knew how his brows would crease ever so slightly or how his hard eyes would glimmer, shooting daggers at anyone who ventured within his fiery cold gaze. She knew that at any moment he would order her to be dragged to the dungeons for she was a traitor, and deserved to be treated as one.

He turned towards her, his face still bearing the blood of the creature and Tauriel swallowed, stiffening and preparing herself.

"Tauriel." He called and she lifted her chin but strode over to him, keeping her eyes lowered in respect. When she halted in front of him he paused, the silence seemingly to stretch on for forever and she knew what he was doing. The silence was meant to make her squirm and perhaps she might have.

Had she anything to lose…

"Yes, my lord?" She questioned, refusing to lift her eyes and if she had she might have seen the flash of anger in his eyes, but it was anger that resulted from pain.

"Meet me in my study one hour after sunset." The order surprised her, for she thought that he would have made her arrest in public, asserting his power but instead he was going to do it in private? Or was he even going to arrest her? She frowned, confused and opened her mouth but his eyes silenced her. She shut her mouth, nodding her head.

"Yes, my lord." She dipped her head low and Thranduil moved past her, the movement like a cold wind whisking past her. His second in command followed after, casting a look she could not quite read but she turned, her eyes following Thranduil's retreating form.

He disappeared into his halls and the cries of the wounded as they were moved drew her back to reality. Shutting her mind of nothing else but her tasks she helped as best she could, usually fetching whatever the healers needed. Finally, they were done, the injured resting easy in the infirmary. Tauriel felt drained, but knew that it had more to deal with than just the events of the day. She slipped out into the halls, noting the looks the guards gave her but she did not acknowledge them for in their eyes she was a traitor.

Finally she stopped outside the doors to the king's study and the guards, their faces hid by their helmets, knocked, announcing her.

"Enter." Thranduil's voice sounded from inside and one of the doors was pushed open, allowing her entrance. She stepped inside, keeping her head lowered in respect. Thranduil stood by a table, his head dipped over pieces of parchment and she noted the glass of wine from beneath her eyelashes. He'd changed into a simple robe of silver, his hair washed and the grime gone from his face. He turned towards her, the robe parting to reveal a hint of his chest beneath and her eyes widened at the mottled bruise that ran from the corner of his collarbone and back around, though she could not tell where it ended. His eyes lifted to hers and she snapped them back down, feeling foolish for staring at him.

"I have gathered a group to return to the ambush in the forest." He crossed to her and she hesitantly lifted her head, "Gather information concerning where they came from and where they had intended to go. The creature I defeated bore similar decent to that of a Black Uruk-hai," the name made her spine stiffen, "confirm my suspicions. I expect you to be back before nightfall." He passed her the piece of parchment, names written across in his scripture, and she stared at the names before her eyes lifted to his face.

"My lord?" She questioned, shocked and one of his smooth brows lifted.

"You are returned to your post as Captain. You'll leave at dawn," he turned back around, reaching for the wine, "I suggest you—" his words stopped as he inhaled a slight breath and Tauriel frowned, seeing the hint of pain cross his face.

"My lord?" She stepped towards him but he stiffened, raising his head and fixing her with that haughty, cool glare that stopped her like it had always done before.

But not now…

"Tis nothing," he reached out again but she watched his brows twitch as he tried to grasp the wine. "You may leave now." He ordered but she took another step forward.

"Have you not been treated yet, my lord?" She asked and his head snapped back around at her, that same dangerous look on his face but she did not stop, despite how her knees trembled.

"It is a wound from the battle, nothing more. Other's have received worse and so needed the attention of the healers." He turned back around, gazing at the far wall of his study. "I received it when entering the City of Dale." At his words Tauriel remembered hearing of when his elk had been shot, crumbling to the ground and throwing him from its back. Thranduil had come up from the fall, but his shoulder must have taken the brunt of the impact.

"Sire, if you'd let me I'd—"

He swiveled back around to face her, his eyes hard, "I do not wish for your aide in my own personal welfare, She-Elf." His harsh words negative form of address were laced with ice and for some reason it made her body tremble, the threat of tears clogging her throat and she dimly wondered why he was affecting her so much. His bewitching crystal blue eyes considered her, his head tilting before he slid closer. "Tell me, do you wish for death?" His question caught her off guard and she jolted. Her mouth opened, ready to spill forth a lie but all that left her lips were stuttered words and Thranduil's face darkened as he slid even closer.

"_Will you not speak up?" _He hissed, his voice like silk that sent chills coursing through her, "You had no trouble speaking your mind to me in the past." She flushed at his words but she still failed to speak, her tongue tying itself into knots until finally she managed to form a coherent thought.

"No…I…I just simply—"

He angled his head sharply, cutting off her words and icy fire raged behind his eyes while the rest of his face remained composed, cold and unaffected.

"That is a lie; do you dare lie to your King?" He whispered and his eyes sharpened. "Am I not the King? Am I not your King?" Tauriel's eyes widened at his words and she trembled, her heart thumping faster inside her chest. He paused, waiting for her answer and Tauriel finally felt her composure cracking. The tears came then, streaking down her cheeks but she did not wipe them away nor did she break down in sobs in front of him.

For six hundred years she'd dealt with his coldness, his heartlessness, but this…

This was too much…

"You are the King of the Woodland Realm," she whispered but lifted her chin higher, "and you are a fool." She kept herself perfectly still as his eyebrows angled inward and the usual mask of indifference cracked, revealing the anger beneath.

"You insult me, She-Elf?" His voice had dropped dangerously low, the calm notes far more terrifying than if he had been shouting at her. "I do not give second chances so easily, yet," he stepped closer, so close she could see her anguished reflection in his eyes, "you still defy me even after I have lifted your banishment and restored you to Captain. I favored you over the others and you repay me by committing an act of treason and by falling in love with a…dwarf." He spoke the last word with apparent distaste, and anger, anger that she had never experienced before, engulfed her.

"_Kili, _his name was _Kili._" She hissed but her fierce anger didn't seem to cause any concern for Thranduil, his face returning to that arrogant, heartless look that he always bore.

"Yes," he breathed, the single word emitting a form of mockery only he could convey, "and he perished at the end of Bolg's blade." The way he spoke of Kili's death, so casual and without feeling had her whole body trembling with anger and grief.

What had happened to the King who had stared at her with compassion and pain as he told her that her love was real? Now he was so carelessly throwing it away, as if she were a mere ant beneath his boot he could squash and not pay another thought to. She turned, pivoting swiftly but it was not enough to hide the flash of her tears. She reached for the door but fumbled with the handle. Her eyes were filling, the tears blurring her vision and she tried again to open the door but Thranduil's voice stopped her.

"I do not recall giving you permission to leave." His voice still held that soft, lilting and deadly tone and Tauriel stiffened. Turning she unleashed her anger out on him.

"You are heartless!" She shrieked, the tears streaking down her cheeks and her trembling hands turned to fists at his unfeeling expression. "And when I only try and help, you push me away. Is it because Legolas left?" At the sound of the Prince's name Thranduil's face twisted into a mask of rage and hurt, the change so quick that she stopped talking, for in one moment he had closed the distance between them. She took a step back, forcing herself against the door to keep herself from touching him.

"Do not speak his name to _me, _you lowly Silvan Elf." His voice had dropped, pure venom and ice bleeding from the words to seep into her skin. "You, who are the cause of his absent from my side, _you _who I could so easily dispatch with one blow, _you _who I could lock in my dungeons for an eternity and no one would dare disobey me." His eyes challenged hers and she found that despite his threats, threats she knew he would carry out if pushed, she was not frightened.

Not anymore…

"Am I, sire? Am I the reason he chose to leave this realm?" She knew her words were daring and she knew his cold exterior was cracking but she did not stop, for once she wanted to see _something _on the king's face besides belittling indifference. If it was possible for Thranduil to become angrier she would have seriously doubted it and the Elvenking's face darkened as he stepped even _closer _to her. She could feel the heat radiating from his strong and powerful body and for a moment she saw the right side of his face tremble but before she could see what was beneath it, his composure slid into place.

"Be careful," he murmured, "if you dance too closely to the flames," he leaned in and Tauriel shrank from him, "you will be _burnt._" He whispered, the last word like a finely sharpened knife that stuck in her side. The silence that engulfed them nearly undid her, for he was still close, his face only inches from hers and she'd _never _been this close to him.

No one dared to…

The seconds seemed to stretch on for an eternity and just when Tauriel thought she'd shatter underneath his crystal gaze, he whirled, his robes billowing out behind him violently, and put his back to her. "Do not test me again, She-Elf," his voice was barely above a whisper but the anger in it was like a sword slicing through the air, "This realm is no longer your playground. You will do as you're ordered, as you are _commanded _and if you fail in your duties," he turned his head to look upon her, his eyes like bits of broken glass while the look of apathy that graced his serene face was chilling, "You will not be bestowed my mercy a third time, not even for the sake of my son." Her eyes widened at his words, "Report at dawn." His resolute words, enforced with steel, were a clear sign to leave and Tauriel stood against the door, her feet rooted to the spot.

So that was why…

He only did this for Legolas…

At the pause Thranduil's entire body hardened, going rigid but she quickly dipped her head once, noting how her body was shaking but she refused to acknowledge it or how tears still stained her cheeks.

"Yes, sire." Her voice was hollow but she did nothing to hide it, turning and escaping back into the halls before more could be said.

VVVV

Thranduil watched the door close, heard the retreat of Tauriel's footfalls before the anger snapped inside him. His arm lashed out, clearing the top of the desk beside him. The contents clattered across the floor but there was no sound from the other side of the door.

How _dare _she…

How dare she make such a remark to him? How dare she insinuate that _he _was the reason Legolas had left? It was because of her, because of her incapability to love Legolas as his precious son had loved her.

The image of Legolas flashed before him, that grim and certain expression on his face as he told him that he would not be returning. The loss had wrenched something from his chest, twisting his gut and crushing his lungs until he couldn't breathe. He'd told Legolas to seek out Aragorn so in a way he would know where his son was, but the harsh reality was still there.

He was gone…

Leaving him behind…

Like _she _had done…

His form trembled and he closed his eyes, forcing the memories from his head but the pain still lurked within his heart.

His heart…

Tauriel had called him many things in the last few days, her own grief pushing her over the edge, but when she'd called him heartless, had insinuated that the reason Legolas had left was not solely because of her, but because he could no longer be near him, could no longer tolerate his single surviving parent had nearly tore him to pieces but he had goaded her into it, perhaps being too harsh with her. His fingers curled into fists at his sides as he realized that his emotions were being ruled by a lowly _Silvan _elf, by a _traitor _no less and that he allowed her to do so, allowed her to make himself feel sympathy for her. He turned but halted as he caught his reflection in the mirror on the far wall.

His true face showed through past the one he usually wore and he stiffened, the horror of seeing it, of remembering how he acquired the gruesome scar of blistered tissue and a sightless eye flashing before him. He could feel the flames scorch his flesh and he swiftly turned around, putting his back to the mirror but the image was forever burned into his mind.

It was monstrous…

No, it was not just his face…

But his soul as well…

Monstrous…

Tauriel's emerald eyes had shown him her true feelings and he found the Elf that was mirrored in her eyes to be a stranger to him.

Was that who he was?

He clenched his jaw, raising a trembling hand and pressing it to his face but it did not stop the flow of emotion. So instead he reached for the goblet of wine but pain, dull and throbbing, raced up his arm and his face contorted with helpless rage. Dropping his hand he gave a derisive snort, turning and leaving his personal study to enter a small adjoining passageway that only he used that would lead to his private bedchambers.

No one, not even Legolas, dared to venture here so as he stepped through the small door into his chambers. A large four poster bed, seemingly woven from a tree itself, was placed in the middle, large open windows lining the far side. It was simple, with a small desk and dresser that held the objects most precious to him. There was an antechamber where he usually let the servants tend to him and from there it led to the rest of his halls, but this place, this place was his sanctuary. Here he could let down the walls of stone he'd placed around him, here he could simply be. He didn't have to be a king, didn't have to be a father or an elf that mourned the passing of his wife centuries long dead.

Here he was himself…

But he was suddenly afraid of what he might find if he removed the bitter armor he'd placed around his being, around his heart and soul. Would he even find anything, or would he simply be an empty husk as Tauriel had implied?

Tauriel…

He did not wish to think of the Elleth, the annoying She-Elf, and disrobed. As he pulled the silken robes from his back he caught the angry and sore flesh that ran from the corner of his left shoulder back around to the opposite. It was not a serious wound, but still caused discomfort nonetheless. He gently reached up, running his long and skillful fingers along the wound and felt a pang in his heart as he remembered Linor, his trusted and faithful friend falling with two arrows piercing his neck and chest. He would add his name to the memorial tomorrow and think of another to erect for those that had fallen in the battle. Then he would have to prepare feasts and celebrations in their name and consult with Lord Elrond, for he had known something had occurred to cause at least the wizards unease and though he knew for them to be blustery and loud, raving about things that were actually quite simple, he knew that was his duty.

Stripping so that he was completely naked he crossed to the bed, pulling aside the feather soft sheets to slip onto the bed. It caressed his sore muscles and he breathed out a tired sigh only a few would understand.

That is if he would ever let them…

His eyes closed and he sent up a silent prayer for his son before silently slipping into sleep, for though Elves hardly slept he felt that the previous events had drained him, drained him more than he had previously thought. Breathing out another soft breath he let the darkness caress him, seemingly to wrap him in her arms before sleep took him.

VVVV

Tauriel awoke well before dawn, for her sleep had been plagued by two pairs of eyes. One had been tender and soft, the depths a deep brown while the other had been cold and bitter, shining brightly with the color of a winter sky.

She dressed, choosing a light tunic that would allow her free movement without angering her wound but as she went to braid her hair she paused. The tresses were like silk and she remembered that a Dwarf maiden would cut her hair in time of grief. Quickly, before she could ponder it further she reached for her knife and in one swift, merciless strike; her hair fell to the floor. She watched it and as the hair tumbled to the stones she suddenly felt lighter, a warmth returning to her even as her heart tightened as she remembered _why _she had done it. Her hair now reached just above her shoulders in jagged cuts but she paid it no heed. Taking each side she braided the front so that it would not hinder her vision. Turning, she gathered her gear but paused, her brows furrowing as she realized that she still had no bow.

It was if a part of her had been taken but she lifted her chin, making a note to have another made for her. She twisted, reaching for the light cloak and drew in a sharp breath. Her body was still tender from the fight with the creature but she did not let it hinder her. She was a warrior and had had more serious wounds dealt to both her body and heart. These would not stop her and would certainly not stop her from doing her duty, especially with the threats from the King hanging over her head.

The halls were still quiet, for the Elves had taken to their beds due to the toll the battle had placed upon them. Tauriel, the scroll Thranduil had given to her clutched in her hand, sent for the Elves he had summoned for this mission, finding that she liked his choices. She started at the thought, immediately rolling the scroll closed with a flick of her wrist. She had not just appreciated the King who the night before had all but tore her heart from her chest.

Clutching the cloak tighter around her, she made her way to the front of the palace halls, halting just inside the doors. The horizon was just beginning to lighten, the promise of dawn fast approaching. The guards stationed there eyed her with caution but moments later the Elves Thranduil had selected started pouring in. There were eight total, counting herself, and each gave her weary expressions.

All except one…

Faerveren…

The young elf spotted her, his warm eyes the color of the soil brightening with joy and surprise. He grinned, flashing a soft smile and crossed to her in one stride.

"Tauriel." He said warmly and the genuine _happiness _she saw there nearly made her throat close.

"Faerveren." Tauriel dipped her head in acknowledgement, feeling suddenly relieved that at least one of her kin did not despise her. "How fair you?" She asked and the Elf waved his hand in a dismissal.

"I am fine, but what of you Tauriel?" His smooth brows drew together as he witnessed her short, jagged hairstyle and the bruises along her neck. "Are you alright?" He whispered quietly and she knew that he meant more than her injuries. She closed off her aching heart and lifted her chin.

"Yes, I will live." Her green eyes flicked to the Elves assembled behind him and she noted their narrowed eyes, the way they held themselves.

They did not trust her…

How could they?

Had she not pointed the tip of an arrow between the King's striking eyes? _Their _King's eyes? She shifted and Faerveren noted her unease.

"Are you to lead us on our hunt, Tauriel?" He questioned and Tauriel lifted her eyes to his intelligent ones.

"Yes, though I am afraid that will not go over well with the others." Her eyes flicked past him and Faerveren gave a slight grunt.

"They know your skill, Tauriel. They will follow you." His words were filled with confidence, as was his slender face, but he was young and naïve, not realizing that once trust was broken it was not so easily mended. She shook her head slightly, her face growing somber.

"I am afraid that is easier said than done, _mellonamin._" She straightened, preparing to stride forward and issue orders when something stopped her. Turning around her body went rigid as her eyes met the pair at the end of the hall.

The Elvenking stood there, dressed in ivory robes trimmed in both silver and gold, a thin circlet of silver atop his head. His face was serene as he seemed to flow towards her, his hair gently swaying about his masculine and powerful shoulders. She knew the Elves behind her would be staring as well, for how could one _not _stare at the bewitchingly beautiful, but intoxicatingly powerful Elf? He moved with such grace, but also with such purpose that he commanded the attention of everyone who surveyed him. His eyes, his most notable feature Tauriel admitted silently, fastened upon her and did not leave and the gaze reminded her of a wolf's.

So intense…

So scrutinizing and so cold all at once…

Yet they seeped to imprison her, wrapping her in a tight embrace till she couldn't move, couldn't even breathe and she ducked her head, quickly remembering to bow in respect like the others had already done moments before. He stopped in front of her and she glimpsed the hem of his robes.

"'_Quel amrun_, Captain." He spoke in Elvish, his voice surprisingly neutral but Tauriel did not take note of it for he'd spoken loud enough for the other Elves to have heard him and that he'd called her Captain. In doing so he'd confirmed her position, telling the other Elves that in no uncertain terms Tauriel was now in charge in dealing with matters and had the backing of the King and for Thranduil…

The action was surprisingly…

Kind…

"'_Quel amrun_, sire." She replied and hesitantly lifted her eyes to his. The quietness that filled them was unsettling, considering they were fixed upon her short locks. Her spine straightened, her mind mentally preparing itself in case she needed to defend herself but Thranduil said nothing of her hairstyle.

The tranquility of the morning surrounded them and though Thranduil was looking at her his mind seemed elsewhere, as if seeing her short hair cut in grief reminded him of another time, of another memory, but movement behind them caused his eyes to clear, focusing on her once more. He turned, facing the Elves who had lined up, their heads still bowed out of respect and awe of their King. Thranduil remained impassive, standing before them like a statue before finally tilting his head, contemplating them with a calculative expression behind his cool blue eyes.

"I have gathered you here to accompany the Captain in retrieving information concerning the ambush of Orcs we faced on the way back to our realm." She stiffened, for he'd used her title once more and by the tone of his voice and look on his face he was telling them in no uncertain terms that she was to be obeyed and that if she was not they would have the wrath of the King and though it irked her that he was using their fear of him to help aide her, she could still not understand _why _he was doing this, considering their heated argument the night before. They bowed their heads in unison once more, placing their open palms over their hearts.

"Yes, _Hir Vun_." They answered and Thranduil gave his head a slight nod in encouragement.

"_Quel Fara_." He called before turning to Tauriel who watched him with unease and caution. He stopped before her and she dipped her head, placing her palm over her chest and feeling the small pouch beneath.

"Farewell," she paused before her eyes slowly lifted to his, "_Hir Vun_." Thranduil, if surprised at her words, did not show it but dipped his head once more, smoothly striding past her and Tauriel straightened herself, heading out of the doors and into the dawn, the rest of the Elves trailing after her.

Perhaps…just perhaps she'd been wrong about the King of Mirkwood…

Maybe he _did _have a heart…

When it suited him at least…

Tauriel set out, taking the lead as they mounted their awaiting horses but as they entered the woods she felt a sense of belonging, of being _home _filling her and though it was only a short time ago since she had lost Kili, she felt the first hint of a true smile play about her lips. Her spirit lifted and it seemed as if little by little she were shedding her grief and feeling lighter than she had in days she kicked her mount into a gallop, the rest of the Elves following after.

As she left a pair of cool eyes watched her and witnessed the slow change that was occurring inside her and though there was a spark of jealousy and resentment that she could shed her sorrow so easily there was also a spark of hope.

For if she could…

Why couldn't he?

VVVV

TRANSLATIONS:

_Mellonamin: My Friend_

'_Quel amrun: Good Morning_

_Quel Fara: Good Hunting_

_Hir Vun: Beloved Lord_

AUTHOR NOTE: Okay this is my first FanFiction concerning Thranduil x Tauriel so please review and tell me if you like it!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The forest air was fresh and reviving and Tauriel kept her mare steady as she peered about. It was mid afternoon and they had just reached the ambush. Bodies still lay on the forest floor and Tauriel dismounted, crossing the distance to the rotting body of the creature. Thranduil had thought that the beast was descended from the Black Uruk-hai, an elite race of Orc and Goblin that was said to guard Sauron himself.

If one was here…

She approached it, her lip curling in distaste as she hooked her foot underneath the rotting corpse's shoulder, rolling it over. The smell nearly made her gag but she clamped down on the sensation, lifting her eyes to Faerveren who was beside a female Elf with dark blonde hair and fetching hazel eyes.

"Rhawen." At Tauriel's commanding tone the Elf turned her head, her bright hazel eyes fixing upon her. Her face was slender, more angular than her own but her face shined with radiant beauty. The Elf crossed to her, the quiver on her back moving with her graceful steps.

"Yes, Captain?" She inquired, her eyes darting to the corpse at Tauriel's feet.

"You have keen knowledge of the breeds of Orcs," Tauriel dipped her chin to the still body on the forest floor, "Can you identify this one?" Rhawen's hazel eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the creature and she knelt.

"Perhaps if the beast would have been fresh," she murmured but did not complain as she used the toe of her boot to remove a rather large maggot. The wound that Thranduil had inflicted upon the creature's chest was filled with them but Rhawen scrutinized it.

"It has rare traces of Goblin, Captain. See the points of its ears?" She gestured to them, "Or the slope of its face. No, this one was perhaps a hybrid, bred for war with the body of an Orc and its strength." She drew out her knife and smoothly cut the strap of his chest plate, peeling it back. The wound was clean, but still gruesome and Tauriel realized the anger that must have been behind the blow. Rhawen must have realized it as well and glanced up at her.

Her hazel eyes showed that she knew the wound could only be made by one and Tauriel felt a flush rising to her face. Annoyed as to _why _she would be blushing she stiffened and Rhawen lowered her eyes back to the beast's chest.

"The muscle tissue is wrong," she tilted her head, her eyes accessing it, "They should attach farther up, along here." She gestured with her knife. "Instead they attach here." She traced the bulging muscles and snorted, wiping her knife on the grass before standing.

"Is it a Black Uruk-hai?" Tauriel whispered and Rhawen's eyes snapped to hers.

"I have only had the unfortunate circumstance of meeting one, Captain, but yes, I do believe it is a _form _of a Black Uruk-hai. Perhaps its parentage was that of an Uruk-hai and a Black Uruk-hai." She tilted her head, puzzled, but lifted her eyes to Tauriel's. "I would ask my _Ada_ on this matter, he would know the exact lineage of this beast." She lifted her eyes to the trees. "He lives on the outer reaches of the realm to the north." At the endearment for father Tauriel was suddenly reminded of hers and she turned, her eyes running over the other Elves.

"I trust your judgment, Rhawen." Tauriel's eyes came back to the nimble Elf. "When we return, I shall inform the King of your wish to speak to your _Ada_ on this matter." Rhawen dipped her head in a nod and Tauriel crossed to Faerveren who was busy studying the armor that graced that of a Goblin. The flesh had peeled due to the sunlight but Faerveren stood.

"Strange news, Captain." He murmured; studying the blade the Goblin had carried. Tauriel's eyes lowered to it and she too frowned, the craftsmanship foreign to her.

"Yes, Faerveren?" She stood closer, craning her head to see the weapon.

"As you have already observed, this is an odd blade for a Goblin to carry. See the hooked edges along here," he ran his forefinger along the edge of the knife where the hilt curved jaggedly. "It is meant to ensnare their enemy's weapon, twisting it from their grasp with a mere flick of their wrist." Tauriel lifted a brow while slipping the blade from his fingers.

"I did not know Goblins possessed such knowledge to craft a blade such as this, or the means to use it." She peered up at Faerveren's face that resembled her own, the same look of confusion etched upon it.

"That was my first initial thought, but look at the armor they bear," he gestured with his hand at the bodies by their feet, "though it is not exceptional, it is still odd for a Goblin to wear such a thing." Tauriel nodded and looked to one of the far Elves that were tasked with scouting the path the Orcs and Goblins would have taken through the forest and perhaps what direction they'd been heading. A quiet Elf, Laegnir with a keen eye and sharp wit was there, his hair darker, perhaps nearly black with a soft, surprisingly gentle face. His brother, Dinethor bore similar features though rarely spoke, letting his brother do it for him and had traveled ahead on horseback. The Elf that did stand beside him eyed her quizzically and she recalled his name to be Erwarth. His own hair was a honeysuckle shade of gold, his eyes a befitting green. She knew him to be an adept warrior that possessed a clever tongue.

"Laegnir, Erwarth." At her call Laegnir turned his deep blue eyes on her and wordlessly crossed to stand before her, Erwarth trailing behind him.

"Yes, Captain?" Laegnir's voice was not spoken in a whisper, but neither was it loud.

"Have you found anything?" She inquired and Laegnir shook his head slowly.

"None that would lead to an avid conclusion, Captain." He replied and she bit the inside of her cheek but nodded. She'd sent two Elves ahead on horseback, seeing if they could come up on another trail. They had not yet returned and Tauriel turned back to Faerveren.

"Gather a weapon of that of an Orc and Goblin. The King will want to see for himself the weapons they wielded." She stepped away and heard the Elf, Erwarth, clear his throat.

"Captain?" He questioned and Tauriel paused, looking back at him.

"Yes, Erwarth?" She did not like the feigned look of innocence in his eyes but waited patiently for him to continue. He shifted, appearing to be uneasy when she sensed that he was not.

"Forgive me for asking such a question, but as a soldier who is under your command, I feel that I must so that I may serve you properly. Are you…are you on safe terms with the King?" He finally asked his face hesitant and Tauriel blinked in surprise before swiftly hiding it.

"And if I wasn't?" She coolly inquired and Erwarth's eyes darted away for a moment before coming back to her. He opened his mouth to speak but Tauriel smoothly cut him off. "Put your fears to rest, Erwarth. I am Captain of the Guard, appointed so by our King. I am your superior and in order so that you may serve me _properly _I trust that you will assist Laegnir in anything that he may need. Am I understood?" She asked, her eyes unforgiving, and Erwarth gave a sheepish smile.

"Captain I only wished to—"

"Am I understood?" Her eyes glimmered and though she was a head shorter than the Elf before her, he bowed his head nonetheless.

"Yes, Captain." He murmured before turning and sliding off towards Laegnir who crouched near the end of the road. Faerveren paused beside her, his eyes upon the blonde haired Elf.

"Handled that quite nicely, did you Captain?" The corner of his lips twitched at the corners and Tauriel shot him a look. He was not affected by it and his face grew serious. "Be careful, Tauriel. The King may have accepted you, but that does not mean everyone else has." He murmured softly before stealing away to do as she had previously ordered and Tauriel glared after him.

How could she _not _know that?

She bit the inside of her lip once more, pivoting and crossing back to the hybrid that still lay on its back, its chest exposed to reveal the gruesome wound. Even without the knowledge of seeing the blow being dealt she could tell the power, the deadly skill and precision it would have taken to inflict such a wound.

The gash was deep but not marred, slicing cleanly through both armor and tissue to glide through the vital organs beneath as if they were butter and not thick, enforced steel armor and hide. Her mind flashed back to the look that had graced Thranduil's face. It had been pure rage, had been pure need to _kill _and it had shocked her. Never had she seen him so raw, so exposed and angry than she had in that one moment.

And he'd been defending her…

Been _saving _her…

The thought left an odd taste in her mouth, especially when she thought of her harsh words.

She'd called him heartless…

The thought caused a twinge of pain to pierce her and without thinking she reached up and touched the pouch that lay against her chest. The action brought comfort to her, stilling her thoughts and after a moment she lowered her hand. As she did so the sound of horses drew her attention and she pivoted, turning to face the two riders she'd sent ahead earlier.

Dinethor rode straight for her, pulling in his sleek gelding and bowing his head. As he lifted his head from the small bow, his eyes drifted to Laegnir, still beside Erwarth as they checked the trails and their eyes met. Dinethor dipped his head once to his brother before turning to face her, dismounting from his steed. Before he could speak, though he rarely did, the other Elf, Rhovanthel rode up beside him on her dappled mare. Her hair was long and unruly, flying behind her like a black banner while her eyes, just as dark and fierce, fixed upon her.

"Any news?" Tauriel asked as Rhovanthel dismounted to stand beside Dinethor.

"Yes, though I have a feeling that this news will not be welcomed." Rhovanthel answered and lifted her chin. "We found the trail of the Orcs and Goblins. They head to Dol Guldur." At the sound of the wretched place Tauriel's heart tightened inside her chest.

"How many?" She asked and Dinethor was the one to speak this time.

"Their numbers rank towards a hundred, Captain, though it appeared to be they were split up into groups, each ranging from twenty to thirty." Tauriel's eyes widened slightly; shocked that so many had managed to escape the battle and were making their way through the forest.

"They look perhaps only a day ahead." Rhovanthel provided and Tauriel dipped her head in a nod, thinking things over.

"We shall return to the King, he will wish to know of this." She went to stride to her mare but Erwarth stopped her.

"Should we not track them, Captain and take out a group of them?" Erwarth asked and Tauriel cast him a glance as she mounted up.

"No, if Rhovanthel is correct then we know they head for Dol Guldur which is at the edge of our realm. The King ordered us to return before nightfall with information. Besides, we have neither the numbers nor the supplies to pursue the beasts." She saw the look that crossed his face and knew he would argue with her.

"Since when have you obeyed orders from the King?" He silently challenged and Tauriel's eyes cooled. The rest of the Elves looked to Erwarth who did not lower his gaze from Tauriel's. She nudged her mare forward, halting in front of him and paused until she knew Erwarth was squirming underneath her fierce gaze.

"Do you intend to imply something, Erwarth?" Her voice was calm but her eyes showed otherwise. Erwarth lifted his chin and kept his eyes level.

"Yes, I do not trust your judgment on this matter." His bold words did not surprise her and she coolly lifted one brow.

"That is your own personal problem, Erwarth but tell me," she tilted her head, "If you were Captain, what would you do? Chase after the Orcs, trekking through miles of forest with only the supplies on your back? It would take days to reach them and if by then they might already be on the outskirts of Dol Guldur and I am sure that waiting behind those walls there will be more. What you think to only be a mere handful of Orcs turns into an army and you, along with the rest of your group, are slaughtered. That is if there are no others like the one over there." She smoothly gestured with her head towards the creature's blackened body. "Not to mention you'd be defying your King, as you just so readily accused me of not moments before." She lifted her chin. "Would that have been your plan?" She asked softly and by the strained look on Erwarth's face she'd been right. "Mount up." She ordered and kicked her mare forward. Her command was obeyed wordlessly and Erwarth clenched his jaw, his cheeks burning and she noticed that he took the rear as they made their way back towards The Elvenking's Halls.

Faerveren pulled his gelding up beside hers and though he said nothing she knew what he thought. Keeping her form stiff and her senses alert they began the slow trek back through the woods but as silence engulfed the group it gave Tauriel too much time to think.

Her mind wandered for hours, of what they had found, of what they would do, of what _Thranduil _would do when presented with the information. She knew that going after the Orcs now would be futile, considering their small numbers and lack of supplies but she also knew this threat could not be ignored. If the Orcs were returning to Dol Guldur so soon then they were doing what the rest of Middle Earth was doing.

They were regrouping…

Gathering their strength to attack once more…

Her hands clenched on the reins as anger burned hotly inside her chest. It was so fierce that she did not pause at the narrow pass, for only one horse could go through at once instead of them riding side by side, and listen. She continued, her mind still on the fiery rage that filled her chest and nearly missed the sound of a limb breaking but her instincts took over and Tauriel twisted in the saddle, looking up just in time to watch as a spider shot from the tops of the trees.

"Captain!" It was Faerveren's voice, filled with shock and panic but before Tauriel could leap free her mare reared in panic and the spider slammed into her. Her back hit the forest floor hard, the stones beneath digging into her back but she lifted her forearm, wincing when the pinchers scraped against her skin. Her fingers found her dagger and drawing it from its sheath she embedded the blade to its hilt into the spider's abdomen.

It shrieked, its eyes bulging and Tauriel snarled, kicking it off of her. As she came to her feet her eyes widened as more spiders descended from the trees. The horses, now trapped between the thick trees whinnied in panic and lashed out at the spiders but it was too narrow. The spiders swarmed them, their movements oddly sporadic and jerky and Tauriel watched as one, its body surprisingly muscled, attacked Rhawen who could do little as her horse jumped and pranced beneath her.

Clenching her jaw, Tauriel scaled a nearby tree, using the momentum to leap from one trunk to the next so that she was nearly parallel with the ground. Tensing her body she leapt, whipping through the air to land on the spider's back. Heat from the creature's body raced up her legs but she sank her dagger into its skull, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone before leaping free. She came up out of the roll, barely dodging a set of flying hooves.

"Captain!" Rhawen twisted in the saddle, her arm extending and Tauriel reached for it but whipped her wrist up, throwing her dagger into yet another spider. Rhawen jolted, turning and looking over her shoulder at the twitching spider before her hazel eyes came back to Tauriel's emerald ones.

The pass was too narrow and the number of the spiders too overpowering. Laegnir and Dinethor were still on their horses but Erwarth and Rhovanthel were not. Their backs were pressed tightly together, their blades just barely able to keep the fierce pinchers for the spiders from piercing them. An arrow was released and Tauriel snapped her eyes to Faerveren, who had notched another arrow, letting it fly with deadly accuracy.

"Fall back! Use the trees!" Tauriel shouted while lunging forward, drawing her other dagger and slicing open the side of a spider that had lunged at her. The Elves obeyed, leaping into the trees while their horses streaked ahead. Tauriel threw herself from their path, coming up and locking her dagger against the fangs of yet another spider. These were quite large, even for a forest spider but that was not all. There was something _different _about them. Tauriel quickly dispatched that one, turning and scaling the tree but as she did so she heard a cry of pain and stopped, turning and seeing Erwarth trapped beneath a spider at the base of the tree nearly twenty feet below her.

This one's color was shockingly a sickening grey and its eyes skittered about, gleaming with rage as it poised to stick him but what alarmed Tauriel was the vile that dripped from the beast's mouth. Her fingers reached for her bow but found it gone and mentally cursing herself once more she bit the inside of her cheek, knowing what she had to do next. She poised her body, tensing her muscles and took in a breath.

Then leapt…

VVVV

Thranduil peered over the piece of parchment, knowing that Arahaelon would wait patiently for him.

Like he always did…

Thranduil after moments of contemplation lifted his eyes to Arahaelon's, fierce blue meeting lukewarm green that shined with the years of his life. Arahaelon had been with him since he'd taken the throne during the Second Age, after the death of his _Ada_ and perhaps was the only other Elf that understood the King's need for solitude or his temperament.

"I approve of your plan, Arahaelon." He passed the parchment to him and Arahaelon, his hair a shade darker than Thranduil's, dipped his head.

"Thank you, _Hir Vun._" He straightened, his robes of simple blue etched with silver shining from the fading sun, rustled with the movement. "I shall see that they are carried out within the fortnight." Thranduil nodded his head but turned his eyes to the distant horizon. It was nearly sunset and Tauriel had not returned with her company.

"You may leave now," he ordered and Arahaelon bowed his head.

"Yes, my lord_._" He turned and went to leave but Thranduil called him back, thinking better of his first order.

"Any news from Captain Tauriel?" Thranduil kept his voice calm, his expression uncaring and Arahaelon lifted his green eyes to the distant horizon as well.

"I am afraid not, sire. Do you wish for me to send out a search party?" At his question Thranduil shook his head.

"No, you may leave now, Arahaelon. _Tenna' tul're._" He said in farewell and Arahaelon returned the farewell before slipping out the doors.

As Thranduil was left alone he stood from his desk and turned to face the horizon, his eyes unconsciously searching the trees. He stiffened, clenching his jaw and turning from them.

Surely the annoying She-Elf wasn't doing this to spite him? Had they not come to an understanding before she'd set out? She'd called him _Hir Vun_, didn't that mean something? Didn't that mean she'd follow his orders? Or would she make him carry out his threat?

He drew in a breath, silently cursing her for he would not let her escape his wrath a third time, not when she took his son from him. That had perhaps been the only reason she was not locked away in the dungeon now, for if Thranduil had any hope of Legolas returning it would only be if Tauriel was no longer banished.

_That _was the reason…

Not because he felt compassion for her loss…

He was cold and detached and had to remain that way. Crossing to the table he poured himself a goblet of wine, lifting it to his lips and drinking deeply from it. The alcohol helped, slightly dimming his senses but not causing him to be even remotely drunk. That rarely happened and when it did he only did so in his private rooms, the strict order not to be disturbed echoing about the halls.

Taking his seat once more he still continued to sip the wine but the papers soon drew his attention. Their losses had been heavy, so terribly heavy and he felt his heart be weighed down by it.

So many lives lost…

The reality of it sickened him but he knew he could not hide from it, he was King and so must deal with it but as he pored over the names of the dead and that of their families he felt bile rise up within him. Before he realized what he was doing his arm swept across the table, scattering the pieces of parchment and they fluttered angrily to the floor. His chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths and he reached for the goblet once more, drinking even more deeply than before.

When the fire engulfed his lungs he stopped, feeling it spread through his body and as his eyes opened they were surprisingly hard, glittering with icy rage.

It was because of the Dwarves…

Because of their greed…

His fingers tightened around the stem of the glass, splintering it into pieces and he cursed, shaking the few remaining droplets from his fingers. He opened his mouth, prepared to call for another goblet of wine but he stopped, knowing that in all his years of life it would do no good to drown his sorrows. So instead he remained in his chair, brooding, though no one risked speaking it, as he watched the sun sink lower and lower beneath the trees.

As it did his anger grew, though he sensed it was not _entirely _directed at Tauriel. It had been a trying day, dealing with the families that had lost loved ones, of carving the name of his elk into the memorial located within the halls and of seeing stricken faces covered in such raw grief that it only proved to remind him of his own and how his decision had resulted in their losses.

No one said it openly, but he saw the look that lingered in their eyes, how he was the main cause of their grief. He swallowed and reclined his head back against the chair, closing his eyes and trying his best to relax.

Then he heard it…

Footfalls raced towards him and his eyes opened just as a young Elf, one of the guards, came bursting in. He quickly lowered his head in a bow but Thranduil could sense his panic, for his eyes were wild and his breathing heavy.

"Pardon the intrusion, my King." He stammered out and Thranduil stood, unease making his brows knit together slightly.

"What is it?" Thranduil demanded and the Elf swallowed.

"It is Captain Tauriel, she's returned." The Elf hesitantly lifted his head and Thranduil felt the unease leave his body.

"Send her in then." He turned, waving his hand in dismissal but the Elf's still panicked expression had still not left his face, causing Thranduil to pause.

"I cannot, sire." He stammered out and Thranduil's brows drew together and this time he strode forward, halting before the Elf's bowed form.

"Explain yourself." Thranduil's firm, perhaps nearly harsh order caused the Elf to flinch and Thranduil's nostrils flared slightly in irritation.

"She's…she's been injured, my lord." He murmured and Thranduil lifted his brows.

"Injured?" He spoke the word thoughtfully, noting how his heart picked up a moment. "How fatal is the wound and who is in charge of her keeping?" He questioned; his voice turning firm once more.

"She received the wound saving one of her comrades in the forest. She's under the care of Elanor in the medical wing." He kept his head bowed. "The injury…it's…" he trailed off and Thranduil suddenly felt a spark of fear hit his chest.

He did not wait for the incompetent Elf to finish speaking and swept from the room, his robes billowing out behind him in a violent flare of movement. The guards stationed outside barely had time to bow to him before he was gone and he dimly heard the Elf running after him to keep up. They reached the medical wing and he shoved open the doors. The healers inside jumped, quickly bowing their heads but their head mistress, the Elf named Elanor, cast him a critical look, which he promptly ignored.

"My King," Elanor stepped around the cot she'd been hovering over, wiping her hands on a cloth and Thranduil felt rooted to the spot when he saw the blood on them.

"How is she?" He demanded, cutting her off before she could speak but before she could even reply he stepped forward, the maids bowing their heads and parting to reveal the red haired Elf who lay on the stained cot. Her arm was a gruesome sight, the sleeve of her tunic ripped to her shoulder to reveal the wound beneath. The puncture was deep, blood and a liquid Thranduil did not recognize seeping from it. Tauriel moaned, thrashing on the cot and Thranduil's eyes rested on her face, taking in her trembling form, her pale complexion and sunken cheeks. At the sound of pain Elanor stepped forward, instructing the girls to hold her down. Thranduil remained standing there, not distracting the healers from their work as they tended to Tauriel.

They bled the wound, the liquid turning her blood a murky color and Tauriel's lips parted as she screamed in pain. The sound shot chills down his spine and as he witnessed her agony he suddenly remembered witnessing another scene like this but he did not turn away.

Minutes…

Hours…

It all faded away until finally, after the wound had been treated and a sleeping powder had been administered to her water, which was forced down her throat, Tauriel lay asleep on the cot. Her breathing was still ragged but her face had lost the traces of pain, turning slender and surprisingly fragile as she slept. Elanor, her eyes tired from the strain of taking care of the injured Elf, turned and faced him, keeping her voice lowered as she spoke to him.

"She will sleep now, my lord." She murmured and he nodded but his eyes did not leave Tauriel's face.

"What caused her wound?" He asked, keeping his voice just as soft though still holding a commanding tone.

"I myself am not privy to the exact details, my lord. All I know is that she threw herself at a spider, saving the Elf, Erwarth, while doing so. I do not recognize the venom that coursed through her, but we can only hope that it has been bled out." A cry of pain sounded behind her and her eyes flicked down to a far bed. "If you will excuse me, my lord?" He nodded his head and she quickly bowed before moving onto her next patient.

"You." He pointed the word at the Elf that had followed him from his study. "Where is Erwarth at?" He turned his eyes upon the nervous Elf who shifted uneasily underneath his gaze.

"In the dining hall, my lord." He murmured and Thranduil swept past him. The hour was quite late, but he could hear the Elves talking as they dined. He entered the hall and all eyes turned to him before a moment later they dipped their heads in respect. A group quickly stood and he recognized them to be the companions he'd selected to accompany Tauriel, though he noted the Elf, Erwarth was not amongst them. One Elf, his eyes the color of the soil with hair perhaps a shade lighter, crossed to him, bowing low in respect. He knew the Elf to be Faerveren and a close companion of Tauriel's.

"My Lord," he lifted his head, "I trust that you have been informed of Tauriel's condition? How does she fair?" He asked and the worry that filled his eyes slightly irked Thranduil but he answered the question nonetheless.

"She is sleeping but perhaps you can tell me of what occurred on your hunt, considering the Elf's whose life she saved is not here to do so." Faerveren nodded once, his face showing his relief at hearing Tauriel's condition before answering.

"We were attacked by a horde of spiders, my King. It was on a narrow pass when they struck and we were forced into the trees. However, we had not realized that in the process Erwarth had been pinned down by a spider and was about to be stung. Tauriel leapt from a branch, tackling the spider and so prevented Erwarth from being stung. I saw her tackle the spider, tussling with it but the spider," his slender brows furrowed, "it was not an ordinary forest spider, nor were its companions. They seemed…" he trailed off, searching for the right word, "altered." He finally finished and Thranduil's brows twitched into a slight frown of his own.

"Altered?" He questioned and Faerveren gave him an uncomfortable look.

"I am not quite sure how to say it, my lord. They were changed, their strength outdoing that of the normal spiders we face. The one Tauriel fought was different, its skin being a light grey." He reached into his tunic to remove a piece of hide. "We cut this from the spider," he held it up for Thranduil to study but he did not reach forward and take it.

"Give this to Arahaelon, he will deal with this matter." Faerveren nodded his head at the order and tucked the piece of hide back into his tunic. "Tauriel fought bravely but before any of us could aide her she was stung but killed the spider. We immediately noticed that she'd been poisoned and tried to administer aide there, but the poison was too potent. It was like nothing we'd ever seen before, my lord." His words had turned grave, worrisome, and Thranduil lifted his chin.

"Do not concern yourself, Faerveren. I place you in temporary charge as Tauriel recovers. I want to have a full report by tomorrow morning. As for Erwarth, I want to hear his side of the story as well but it shall wait till the morrow." He paused as Faerveren bowed before turning and leaving the hall once more.

His feet led him back to the medical wing and this time he entered much more quietly but found that the healer, Elanor, had gone. The rest of the patients were silent, sleeping soundly. Thranduil crossed to the cot Tauriel slept on and stared down at her. His face twitched, anger at her carelessness engulfing him. He'd ordered her specifically not to waste her life and yet this is what happened. Had she been awake he would have scolded her, perhaps even throwing her in his dungeons so that she'd _finally _be out of harm's way.

He started at the thought, his brows drawing harshly together. Had he not been the one to send her out? Had he not been the one to restore her to the position of Captain, knowing full well the dangers that it required? He released a pent up breath, his eyes falling to her matted hair. She'd cut it short, the line jagged and uneven and irritation whelmed up inside him once more. He knew why she had done it, but she could at least of had someone help her so that she didn't look like a ragged, uncouth ruffian.

He knew her hair color was odd, a fiery red when most Elves only bore shades of brown, gold or black. Tauriel had been proud of her hair color, proud of her heritage and he acknowledged her sacrifice but it somehow left a bad taste in his mouth. Knowing he would find no wine here he instead reached for a pitcher of water but as he did so Tauriel stirred, her eyelids fluttering.

Her lips parted and he suddenly realized that she was trembling, her forehead breaking out in a feverish sweat. He turned, prepared to call for a healer but the name that left Tauriel's lips stopped him.

"Kili…Kili…" it was hoarse, leaving her lips in a sob and Thranduil slowly turned back to face her and the agony that graced it, the bitterness of it, stopped him.

"Please…no…" she tried to roll onto her side but her arm must have erupted in pain and she cried out, her hands reaching for something, anything and she sobbed again, tears streaking out of the corners of her eyes. They glistened from the moonlight that whispered in through the windows and as Thranduil gazed at them he knew what he would do next for in that single moment, his own anguish crashed down upon him like a raging storm.

She whimpered, thrashing on the cot as she reached out and this time Thranduil's fingers wrapped around her own, holding on tightly. Tauriel gasped, another soft sob leaving her lips and her fingers clenched around his but he did not feel the pain. He remained standing, peering over her as she cried, her hand in his and he slowly stroked his thumb over her knuckles, remembering doing the same for Legolas when he would have nightmares.

After a few moments he looked at their clasped hands and realized that this was the first time he'd willingly touched another. No one dared overstep that silent boundary of his own personal space, always careful to avoid physical contact with him, but this…

This _warmth…_

It prickled along his fingers, tingles racing up his arm and into his chest. He studied her face, watching the tension slowly melt from it as the night carried on. Her breathing turned even and soft, her lips parting with every breath and though he knew Tauriel to be beautiful, in a wild and free way, he truly saw it now. Even with her ragged hair of fire she was still enchanting and he found himself reaching up, gently taking a lock of her hair between his fingers. She stirred, sighing and turning her face towards his touch. As she did the pouch that lay cradled against her chest caught his attention and he flicked his eyes to it.

He knew what lay inside, for he'd watched her silently place a lock of her own hair over the dwarf, Kili's, heart while she took one of his for her own. He understood this but again that same bitter taste filled his mouth and he slowly withdrew his fingers from her hair.

He watched her sleep and the memory of when they'd first met came to mind, though he doubted she would remember it herself for she was just a mere child at the time. She had been just as stubborn, just as valiant and wild as she was now though.

He'd been different then…

He suddenly wished that she _did _remember the Elf he'd been before that time, before that time when everything had been warm and joyous before turning dark and cold.

Before his heart died…

The hours stretched on but Thranduil remained with her, not really knowing why and not taking the time to consider it. Perhaps he himself did not wish to be alone and being here was as good as a place as any. A few hours before dawn he heard the healers stirring and not wishing to be found holding the hand of the Captain of his Guard he stood, slowly slipping his fingers free of hers. At the loss of warmth he suddenly wanted to reach out and take them in his once more and Tauriel's brows twitched, her face showing annoyance and discomfort. She turned towards him, her chest rising in a sigh and Thranduil gazed at her before slowly leaning down.

"_Quel kaima astalder_," he murmured against her brow and she murmured something, reaching for him but he pulled away, suddenly feeling as if he'd been burnt but turned, slipping out into the silent halls.

VVVV

Her warmth was gone...

Tauriel shifted, grumbling to herself and she found that the horrid blackness was returning and she fumbled for the hand that had held hers so safely before but her fingers closed around nothing. The thought sent fear coursing through her and she knew the nightmares were coming for her. She quivered but then a warm voice echoed about inside her head, filling her with that wonderful warmth that left her feeling weightless.

_Quel kaima astalder…_

She knew that voice, she _knew _that voice but she did not dwell on it, and instead memorized the lilting, gentle notes. A soft sigh left her lips and she felt the blackness slipping away, fading away into nothingness until there was only that voice and that warmth.

The horrid nightmare of watching Kili die did not visit her this night, and though she knew she was sick, she did not fear for her life. Another deep sigh left her lips and this time she gladly slipped underneath the oncoming tide but the name that drifted in and out of her thoughts was not Kili's.

It was Thranduil's…

VVVV

TRANSLATIONS:

_Ada: _Father

Tenna' tul're: Until Tomorrow

_Quel kaima astalder: _Rest well, valiant one

_Hir Vun: _Beloved lord

AUTHOR NOTE: Thanks to all who review! Please continue to do so!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_Keep it…_

_ As a promise…_

Tauriel's eyes slowly opened to stare up at a foggy ceiling and a moment later she realized she was crying. Reaching up she went to wipe her tears away but drew in a sharp, pained breath as agony erupted from her left arm.

"Lay still, Tauriel." Tauriel started at the voice, jostling her arm further but the pain was an afterthought as she beheld the King. He was dressed in his normal attire of robes, the colors black and a deep red but his head was bare, his hair falling loosely to his shoulders. His face was serene, his mouth set in a firm line and the dark colors made him appear regal and feral. She swallowed, suddenly nervous and it wasn't just because of the look he was giving her. She recognized this look, had seen it all too often. It was the look that graced his face when he scolded people, reprimanding them and nearly tearing them to pieces.

That's why he's here…

To lecture me…

The thoughts muddled through her head and she braced herself for the onslaught but blinked when Thranduil reached forward, his hand nearly an inch from her face and she gasped. The sound seemed to draw Thranduil back and he stiffened, dropping his hand and placing it behind his back along with the other. His chin lifted and though he wore no crown it was not needed for him to command the attention of those around him.

"You prove yet again to cause problems for me, Captain." His voice was formal, the indifferent notes not shocking her but she still felt the spark of anger inside her chest.

"Ap-" her voice stopped working and she swallowed, her throat dry and Thranduil slowly turned his head, his eyes falling to the water upon the nightstand. Flowing forward he poured her a glass and offered it to her good arm. Tauriel hesitantly reached up and took it, careful to keep from touching his fingers. She gingerly sipped the water until the dryness had left. Giving a satisfied sigh she lifted her eyes to his.

"Thank you, sire." She answered and dipped her head, "Though I _apologize_ that I did not foresee the attack." Though her words were humble she knew her tone was slightly biting, hinting at her irritation. Thranduil's brows rose in a mocking, sadistic way.

"As you should be," his words made her head snap up, "you not only endangered the lives of your company," his eyes narrowed dangerously, "but you also endangered your life as well." His eyes glittered, "And so carelessly." He finished and Tauriel's jaw clamped.

"And what would you have had me done, my lord?" Her words came out in a shudder as she tried to keep her anger in check, "Would you have let a fellow Elf lose his life to those accursed creatures?" Her lip curled slightly. "I acted as I saw fit and my position as Captain requires that I—"

"Follow _my _orders." Thranduil smoothly interrupted but his voice now held that same dark, silky tone that hinted at the anger beneath. "You did not. As Captain of the Royal Guard it is your duty to follow the command of the King, follow _my _command." He stated and Tauriel felt her hands tremble.

Why did he have to be so…

So _insufferable?! _

"I did not disobey it, my lord." She kept her voice steady but it wavered. "We were returning and attacked by the forest spiders. The Elf, Erwarth, was trapped beneath one. I intervened and saved him. I may be Captain of the Guard," her chin lifted, "but as Captain of the Guard, it is my duty to oversee the safety of all the Elves put underneath my command as is yours to—"

"Do not presume to tell me of _my_ duty, _Captain_." His harsh, but surprisingly calm words made her close her mouth and she took in was what supposed to be a calming breath but it did not succeed in doing so.

"Apologies." She murmured, lowering her eyes so he would not see the anger burning behind them and she lifted the glass of water to her lips once more. The cooling liquid helped quench the flames but her mind still whirled. She'd been sick hadn't she? Why couldn't the first person she'd seen been someone else besides the King? Why couldn't it have been someone who would express real concern over her well being, instead of someone who only sought to punish her for her _ignorance? _

For that was all he wanted…

He did not care for her…

She was surprised at the slight twinge of pain that lashed through her heart and her fingers tightened around the glass. Tauriel knew the King to be cold, but she somehow felt that after six hundred years, after so many years spent protecting this realm and risking her life she thought she would have at least earned _some _sort of form of concern from him.

But then again…

She'd been the one to threaten him first, she'd been the one to disobey his orders and she'd been the one to commit such a high act of treason that the only reason she was allowed to remain here was because of her relationship with Legolas, no matter how fragile it was now. The thought irked her and she clamped her jaw but started when she realized that she'd fallen silent and that Thranduil was studying her, his eyes shining with a severe light.

Thinking that she'd angered him once more she opened her mouth, scrambling for a thought. "If I may ask, sire, how do the Elves who accompanied me fair?" She wanted to change the subject, shift it away from her act of so called _disobedience _but by the look that was the Elvenking's striking face she knew that this matter was not yet settled.

"Well, they went with the dawn patrol with the Elf, Faerveren, as Captain." At his words Tauriel's eyes widened, her throat running dry and she quickly took another drink from the glass. Thranduil watched her, his face an unreadable mask and she bit the inside of her cheek.

He really was going to strip her of her command, throw her into the dungeons and throw the key into The Great Sea all just because she'd injured herself saving the life of another Elf. She paused, remembering how he'd addressed her. He still used the title of Captain so perhaps…

He wasn't going to?

A hint of a smile played about the corner of his lips, mirth showing on his face before disappearing a moment later.

"You are to be bedridden for a week." His eyes flashed in a warning as she opened her mouth to argue and she shut it, letting him speak once more. "You have already been asleep for three." Something crossed his face, perhaps a hint of concern, before it vanished a moment later. "You will be moved to your own private quarters by tomorrow." He turned his head, his eyes running over her form and she stiffened, feeling a blush creep up her neck at his intense gaze. "You will follow the healer's instructions, am I understood?" He ordered and Tauriel frowned, confused.

"Yes, of course sire but once I have recovered, I seek to return as soon as possible." Thranduil merely lifted a brow while a false smile played about the corners of his lips.

"Do you now?" He softly asked, his tone implying otherwise and she felt a twinge of worry in her chest but answered honesty.

"Yes, sire." Her answer showed her confusion but Thranduil did not seem to deem it worthy enough to cast her another glance as he went to leave, but as he turned to go she opened her mouth once more. "What will you do about the spiders, my lord?" Her question caused him to pause, turning slowly and tilting his head to consider her, his fierce eyes seemingly to burn straight through her but she did not lower her eyes.

"That is none of your concern." He knew she would argue with him and his eyes hardened, another warning to stay silent with which she ignored by lifting her chin.

"How is that none of my concern?" She hissed and something crossed his face, perhaps mirth, perhaps he found her genuinely funny and the thought enraged her. She was serious and her anger should have showed it but he turned back towards her, his hair flowing gently about his shoulders.

"You will remain within the palace walls until I deem you fit enough to venture out once more. Am I understood?" He whispered and she blinked, shocked that he'd ignored her question but then angry because he was so calmly ordering her to remain here when she had just told him that she would be returning as quickly as she could.

"But sire I—"

"_Am. I. Understood?_" His voice had darkened, dripping false honey and she shut her mouth but when she opened it again she suddenly felt dizzy, nauseas, and reaching up with her good arm pressed a hand to her forehead. Thranduil's face suddenly lost all traces of coldness, his head tilting farther as he contemplated her pale features while taking a small step forward. He stopped, thinking better of it and instead turned his head.

"Healer." A moment later the healer, Elanor, appeared by his side. She bowed her head but seeing Tauriel's stricken face flowed forward and pressed the back of her hand to Tauriel's forehead.

"You have a slight fever and you're body is weak." Elanor's voice was soft, but firm and she stepped back, going to the small table beside the bed. "You will need to drink this and get plenty of rest." Tauriel saw how Elanor cast her eyes at Thranduil, who also understood the look she gave him and a wry look entered his eyes.

"Remember my orders, Captain." Thranduil warned and turned, "Inform me if her condition changes." This he pointed towards Elanor who bowed her head.

"Yes, _Hir Vun_." She murmured and Tauriel blinked, confused but before her head could clear her vision blurred and she groaned, sinking back onto the cot. She caught a hazy figure sweep from the medical wing and Elanor turned back to face her. "Poor thing," she whispered soothingly while placing a cool rag on her forehead, "you wore yourself out speaking with the King." Her soft eyes sparked for a moment. "I wish he would have let you be." She must have thought Tauriel too far gone to understand what she was saying as she tended to her.

"Tis alright," she whispered in a dry voice and Elanor's eyes drifted to hers before she raised a glass of water to her lips.

"Drink deeply, _Nikerym_." Tauriel did as she ordered, parting her lips and letting the water flow past her tongue and down her throat. It helped quench the fire that pulsed within her and she sighed, her eyes closing. "I shall have you moved to more private quarters before you have awakened. It will make the transition easier on you, _Nikerym._" Tauriel nodded, finding her body pleasantly heavy.

"Thank you, _arwen en amin._" At her words Elanor paused, her slender brows lifting in surprise but her lips pulled into a gentle smile.

"That is not necessary, _Nikerym_." She touched her arm, "I am no such thing, just a simple healer. Now rest," she reached up and touched her forehead once more. "When next you wake you'll be in your quarters." Tauriel couldn't find the strength to reply and felt the blackness pulling at her until she succumbed to it.

VVVV

She was always a handful…

Thranduil mentally snorted to himself, pushing the thought of the red haired Elf out of his head as he looked over the edict before him. So the council wanted him to increase the soldiers at their borders did they? He casually let the piece of paper fall back to his desk, turning instead to lift a glass of wine to his lips. He might have considered it, but since the battle he knew that that they had little Elves left to spare, and these would wish to spend time with their families, mourn over the lost and be with the ones that still remained. He would not rip them so soon from the warmth of their own homes.

He drank from the glass and turned his eyes to the stars. The day had been trying, as they always seemed to be, and he had sought the solace of his study perhaps earlier than what was required but he was the King after all. He crossed to the doors that led to the balcony and stepped outside. The breeze was soft and gentle, caressing his face and sliding over his neck to play with the ends of his hair. Another soft sigh left his lips as he surveyed his kingdom. Instead of peace that had filled him at the sight of the trees something else festered inside his chest.

Worry…

He knew that the increase of spiders was not coincidental, but he did not wish to plunge head long into a conflict without knowing the proper details. He'd send scouts, more heavily armed than the ones before, and wait for Arahaelon's word on the matter of the new breed of spiders. He looked down to his fingers that now grasped the wine and suddenly thought of when they'd been entwined with Tauriel's.

They'd been warm then…

His brows drew together slightly, for his mind was constantly playing back to her but he could not rid himself of her image. He dimly wondered how she fared, but the healer, Elanor, had not reported to him today. He continued to look out over the trees, watching as the moon climbed higher into the starry sky until it started to dip back towards the trees. The sky soon slipped into dawn and he knew that this peaceful night had slipped away from him. He turned, going back into his study and placing the wine upon the table. Lifting the piece of paper before his eyes once more he carefully reread the terms, making sure that he had not missed a small detail, though he doubted it. A knock sounded at his door and he tilted his head but did not lift his eyes from the paper as he answered.

"Come in." He called and the door opened to reveal Arahaelon standing there. The Elf looked tired but he bowed his head nonetheless and waited to be acknowledged. "What is it, Arahaelon?" At his question the Elf lifted his head, his eyes resting with Thranduil's.

"I have studied the hide of the spider," his brows drew together slightly, "it is quite odd, _Hir Vun." _Thranduil dropped the paper to the desk and studied Arahaelon instead.

"How so?" He questioned and Arahaelon reached inside his robes, producing yet another piece of parchment for Thranduil to study.

"I have written my observations on this, my lord." He passed the parchment to him, "I am afraid that this new breed is quite strong, with an agility that only comes from sorcery." At the last word Thranduil snapped his head up but Arahaelon's gaze was steady.

"So you are saying that have been altered by magic?" Thranduil murmured and Arahaelon dipped his head.

"Yes, my lord. I do." He answered and Thranduil didn't reply, his eyes studying the paper. What he found did not sit well and he placed the paper with the others that covered his desk.

"Very well, I will look farther into it." He tipped his head back towards Arahaelon, studying the Elf with his right eye. "You did well, Arahaelon, but I will need more information." The Elf bowed, his hair falling forward to catch the hint of dawn.

"I understand, sire. May I have your permission to take with me a group of Elves into the forest to study the carcass of the spider? I will be able to provide more information if so." Thranduil thought of his request but shook his head.

"Wait until I have word from this morning's dawn patrol. If I like what they say then you will have my permission." Arahaelon nodded and bowed lower.

"Yes sire," he murmured and Thranduil lifted his hand.

"You may go now." He ordered and Arahaelon paused a moment, keeping his head at the respected level before straightening and turning. He strode from his study and Thranduil turned back to the horizon. It was so much easier when his subjects did not argue with him, simply doing what he ordered them to do but he sighed, reaching up and running his fingers over his face.

Knowing that the dawn patrol would be leaving soon he turned back around and left his study, returning to his quarters to change into a light silver silk shirt with a heavier and darker silk overcoat. His knee length boots were silent upon the stones and deciding to leave his head bare he left once more. He flowed through his halls, occasionally recognizing the guards or other Elves that bowed their heads at his presence.

When he reached the wall he paused, patiently waiting. A few moments later the Elf, Faerveren appeared. He was smiling and laughing with another Elf, her nave Rhawen but at the sight of Thranduil their laughter immediately faded and they quickly bowed.

"_Hir Vun._" They said in unison and the Elves that came in behind them nearly tripped over the ones before them but quickly bowed as well, speaking the same greeting.

"I wish to speak with you, Faerveren." At his commanding tone Faerveren's head snapped up and he quickly nodded.

"Yes, sire." He strode forward, his light leather armor creaking slightly with his fluent movements.

"After your patrol you are to report directly to me and while you are out scout the southern wood. Find trails of the spiders but do not pursue them and at all costs do not engage them." He ordered and Faerveren, though looking slightly confused, nodded.

"_Amin_ _naa_ _lle_ _nai_, _Hir Vun._" He replied and Thranduil nodded, pleased at his answer.

"The Elf, Erwarth. He will not accompany you today. Send him to the throne room when he arrives." This caused Faerveren to take a slight step back, his face paling but he nodded again. Thranduil did not explain himself to the Elf, nor did he need to for he was King and swept from the room.

He passed through the corridors, over the winding path and climbed the steps to his throne, lowering his frame onto his throne of antlers. For years they'd gathered them from the forest after the great elks would shed them. They were the only thing fitting for a King. He gently ran his hand over them, admiring the smoothness and he heard the doors and the patter of feet as the Elf, Erwarth approached.

Thranduil kept his fierce eyes on his hand, thinking of how he was going to visit the medical wing and see the condition of the injured. Erwarth lowered down onto one knee, clasping his clenched fist over his heart and spoke in a soft, quiet voice that showed his unease.

"My King," he called and Thranduil lifted his eyes, keeping both his face and manner indifferent. He did not reply, knowing the silence would only cause the Elf further unease.

"Stand." He commanded after a long pause and Erwarth obeyed but kept his head lowered. "You were under charge of Captain Tauriel, were you not?" Thranduil questioned and the Elf meekly nodded his head. "She saved your life, did she not?" Thranduil kept his gaze level and Erwarth nodded his head once more.

"Yes, my lord, she did." He answered and for a moment Thranduil thought he noted a hint of resentment in his voice.

"Do you resent that, Erwarth?" He asked and the Elf slowly swallowed. "Answer me, _ohtar._" At the form of address the Elf's eyes flashed to his before quickly lowering in submission.

"Yes, my King." Erwarth whispered, his voice hoarse, and Thranduil slowly arched his right brow.

"Oh?" His voice feigned innocence and he smoothly stood, rising to his full height and Erwarth ducked his head, hunching his shoulders. "Explain yourself." He ordered while placing his hands behind his back, lifting his chin so that he looked down at the Elf.

"I…I did not wish to be saved by…by a—"

"Traitor?" Thranduil smoothly cut in and Erwarth jolted but nodded his head.

"Yes sire," he answered in that same meek voice and anger flashed within Thranduil's eyes before it was calmly hid behind a mask of ice.

"Tell me, _ohtar,_" he turned, smoothly descending the first flight of stairs to where Erwarth stood on the platform below him, "How is your Captain a traitor?" His softly spoke question caused Erwarth to fidget, his fingers trembling despite how he clasped them in front of him.

"She threatened the life of my King, sire." He murmured in an answer and Thranduil watched him for a moment before he tilted his head slightly to the left.

"You think you're King so weak that he could not dispatch a lowly Silvan Elf without bringing harm to himself?" At his words Erwarth's head shot up, his eyes widening in shock.

"No, my King, I did not—"

"No," Thranduil interrupted, "you did not." He pulled back, his gaze accessing him. "Do you think that I would restore her to her post, if she was not loyal to me? Do you think so little of your King? That he would make such a foolish decision?" His voice had darkened while Erwarth's face had paled.

"Sire, please she's a _gwarth, _a_—"_

"_Dina_," Thranduil hissed, the word like a whip, and he stepped threatening close to the Elf. "You will never utter such a word concerning Tauriel again." He took another step closer, "I revoke your station. You will travel to the northern post and remain there. _Am. I. Understood?_" He growled and Erwarth's eyes widened but he lowered his head, quickly nodding.

"Yes, sire." He whispered and Thranduil turned, climbing the stairs to his throne.

"Guards!" He barked and the Elves fell into step beside Erwarth who jumped, hastily looking up at him but he ignored his frightened look. "Make sure Erwarth has left my halls within the hour." He coolly commanded and the Elves bowed their heads, grasping Erwarth by his arms and dragging him down the steps and across the path, disappearing into the halls beyond.

Thranduil watched them go but the anger had not left his chest yet for it burned with every breath he took. How dare that pathetic Elf call Tauriel a betrayer, how dare he—

Thranduil immediately stopped his thought process and remained still upon his throne. A twisted smile graced his lips and he nearly laughed at the irony before him.

So that's how he was thinking now…

Wonderful…

Just wonderful…

VVVV

Tauriel lay in the bed, her limbs feeling heavy, like lead, despite how her mind was racing. When she'd opened her eyes she'd found the walls of her bedroom greeting her and that of the afternoon sun was shining through the windows. She didn't know how long it'd been, or the exact time but her mind soon grew distracted with other things.

Like the battle…

She analyzed every detail, picking it apart and scrutinizing each piece until there was nothing left but each conclusion left her even more frustrated. The weakness in her body infuriated her but every time she'd try to rise, her strength would fail and she'd collapse back onto the soft sheets. However, the inability of not being able to move was not the sole reason for her anger. Lying about gave her too much time to think…

Too much time to think about Kili…

She winced, shutting her eyes and drawing in slow breaths as she felt the tears water behind her closed eyelids. Thankfully a knock sounded and the wall slammed down so fast that a relieved breath left her lips before she called out, "Come in." The door opened and a smiling face greeted her. "Faerveren," she breathed and the Elf's face nearly split with joy and relief as he crossed to her.

"Tauriel," he whispered and gave a respectful dip of his head before lowering down onto one knee beside the bed. "You look better since the last I saw you." He murmured and she gave him a small smile.

"I should hope so," she forced herself to sit up, "How does everyone fair?" She asked and her question caused Faerveren to glance away from her a moment. "Faerveren?" She questioned and the Elf gave a small sigh.

"Everyone is fine, Tauriel." He hesitated and Tauriel narrowed her eyes.

"What? Tell me what's happened." She ordered and Faerveren's lips twitched at the corners.

"Even when you are ill, you are still stubborn." He noted and she snorted but a wry smile crossed her lips.

"I am never too ill to be stubborn. Now," she lifted her chin, "tell me what I have been missing, lying in my bed like an invalid. What has the King been doing about the spiders?" Faerveren studied her face before he replied.

"I now lead the dawn patrol, as I am sure the King has informed you." Tauriel nodded and Faerveren paused for a moment, "As for the spiders, we have found many new trails left by the spiders, but have been given orders not to pursue them." Tauriel clamped her jaw at this but remained silent. "The King only seems to want to know where they go, nothing more." Tauriel could see that Faerveren himself did not quite see why the King only sought to track the spiders instead of destroying them at their source but Tauriel remained silent, letting him continue. "We have required a new healer to our regiment. Her name is Orwen. She's very capable." He assured and Tauriel dimly remembered the name but she frowned, confused.

"A new member? Did something happen to someone?" She asked and that same hesitant look crossed Faerveren's face. Her brows drew together and she leaned forward. "Faerveren?" Her tone implied that he should tell her the truth but he ducked his head, a sigh leaving his body.

"Very well," he lifted his eyes to Tauriel's, "The King has stripped Erwarth of his rank and was sent to our post in the north." His words made Tauriel's eyes widen in shock. He reached up, trying to prevent her outburst, but it was no use.

"He did what?! Why?" Tauriel demanded and Faerveren shrugged helplessly.

"I myself do not know. He was gone before we returned from patrol." He shifted, rising to sit on the bed. "When I reported to him I asked why he had done so, what Erwarth's offense had been but the King did not say, merely stating that I should focus on the task he'd given me." Faerveren frowned. "He seemed…different." He murmured and though Tauriel was still angry that he had so casually stripped an Elf under her command, even if it had been Erwarth, and sent him away she stopped, listening to Faerveren's words.

"How so?" She asked, genuinely curious, for if Faerveren could tell a difference in the King perhaps things _were _getting interesting for the icy King was known for his unbreakable masks of indifference.

"He seemed…distracted…bothered by something. I do not know what, but it must trouble him greatly." Faerveren's eyes grew distant and Tauriel glanced away, thinking.

"How odd," she whispered and Faerveren nodded but he tilted his head, his eyes falling to her bandaged arm.

"How is your wound?" He hesitantly lifted his hand, his fingers tracing the edges of the bandages, "Does it still cause you pain?" His voice showed his concern and Tauriel glanced at him before looking to her arm. It was wrapped from her elbow clear up to her finely shaped shoulder and she shrugged it.

"Only a slight discomfort." She replied and leaned her head against the headboard, her mind returning to the thought of Erwarth being sent to the northern post.

Why would Thranduil do that?

Did Erwarth do something to anger him?

Even if he had, Erwarth would have only received a minor punishment, not something like this.

"Tauriel?" Faerveren's voice called her back and she blinked, realizing that she'd drifted into thought.

"Apologies," she straightened but Faerveren shook his head.

"No, I am sure you are tired. I will take my leave." He stood, prepared to head for the door but the fear of being left alone, of being left to her thoughts, had her reaching out and grasping his wrist.

"Wait!" Her outburst and iron grip caused Faerveren to jolt and he stared at her, shocked but Tauriel flushed, ducking her head and dropping her hand. "I-I'm sorry, I don't know what overcame me. It's just…I just don't want to be left alone." She whispered without looking up at his face.

Would he laugh at her? Call her silly and just ignore her?

"Tauriel," he reached up with his other and placed it over her own, lowering back down onto the bed beside her. As he did so his eyes fell on the pouch that still lay around her neck and in a soft, gentle voice asked, "Tell me about him, about your dwarf." He murmured and Tauriel stared at him.

Slowly, she felt herself opening, like a flower blooming, and she told Faerveren. It poured from her, not stopping until there was nothing left. She had not realized that the sun now tipped towards the trees but Faerveren did not move, staying beside her and listening quietly, not interrupting her. Finally, when her story had ended she felt the tears slide quietly down her cheeks and wiped them away with her fingers.

"He was very dear to you," Faerveren noted quietly and Tauriel nodded, her throat closing.

"Yes, he was." She answered softly and Faerveren's grip tightened.

"I am sorry, _mellonamin,_" he whispered and Tauriel gave him a pained smile while reaching up and lightly clutching the pouch with her free fingers.

"Thank you, Faerveren." She sighed, suddenly feeling drained. "I apologize, I've kept you with me all day." She gave a nervous chuckle but Faerveren shook his head.

"I am glad to be here to comfort you when you need it, Tauriel. Whenever you need to confide in someone, please do not hesitate to do so." His earnest words made her throat close with emotion once more but a small smile played about her lips.

"You are a true friend," she whispered and something entered Faerveren's eyes, something she couldn't read but he quickly hid it, smiling in return.

"Yes." He answered and squeezed her hand. His grip was reassuring and she returned the gentle pressure, letting them fall into silence.

Suddenly Tauriel remembered the warmth she'd felt when she'd been sick, of someone grasping her hand and keeping it in theirs. That warmth had saved her, had enveloped her and chased away her nightmares.

But…

It was not Faerveren's…

Her brows twitched into a slight frown, for if it was not Faerveren's, the only male Elf who showed her genuine concern, then who could it have been? Tauriel looked up at him, her mouth opening to ask questions when the door to her room was pushed open. Her eyes widened when she saw who stood there, his hands clasped lightly behind his back, his silvery blonde hair flowing down around him with a cold, unfeeling mask of emotion on his face.

"My King!" Faerveren exclaimed and released Tauriel's hand, quickly standing and lowering his head in a quick bow. Thranduil kept his piercing eyes on Tauriel and the intensity that was in them made her stomach quiver. She ducked her head, hoping that the bow would be formal enough but when her eyes flitted up, his own were still trained on her. After a moment they shifted to Faerveren, who still had his head bowed respectfully.

"Leave us." He ordered and Faerveren's head came up with the order, a look of confusion and hesitation crossing his face but when Thranduil's gaze grew colder he quickly bowed once more.

"Yes, _Hir Vun._" He glanced to Tauriel and gave her a soft smile. "Rest well, Captain." His farewell were the only words spoken in the room as he left, shutting the door behind him. Tauriel shifted on the bed, feeling suddenly self conscious in her nightshirt and disheveled hair. Thranduil did not seem to notice, for his eyes were still trained upon her face, that same look of scrutiny on his own.

"How may I be of service, sire?" Tauriel finally asked, knowing that he would not address her until she had spoken first. Thranduil's eyes glittered coldly but his face remained impassive as he casually strode forward. As he did so she couldn't help but want to sink back into the sheets, hoping that they'd swallow her but they didn't.

"I see that you are feeling better. At least," he paused, considering her, "to keep Faerveren, who had other duties to perform besides keeping you from becoming bored, from acting as Captain." His words shouldn't have shocked her, but they did and she blinked.

"Excuse me, sire?" She asked, baffled, but Thranduil was not finished.

Not yet…

"Have you not caused enough trouble already, little She-Elf?" At the mocking form of address Tauriel stiffened, opening her mouth to defend herself but Thranduil continued. "I travel from my study, leaving behind important matters to deal with my insubordinate and where do I find him? Here with you," his eyes hardened and he looked down at her hand, his lips thinning and Tauriel flushed, her fingers tightening, "You are a distraction, even hidden amongst your rooms." He murmured, lifting his eyes from her hand to her face. "I trust that you will refrain from leading another Elf amiss, especially when your taste runs towards Dwarf?" He asked, his tone biting, and Tauriel stared at him, not believing the words that had left his mouth.

First of all, Faerveren was a Silvan Elf, just like herself, so if she had _any _romantic interest in him it would, _should not_, concern the King whatsoever. Second, there was _no _romance between herself and Faerveren, they were simply friends.

But most of all…

How could she love another so soon after Kili? If Thranduil thought she was that heartless, that she was that naïve or silly to toss aside that love that she'd felt for him, then Thranduil was the fool for thinking so little of her.

And he was a fool for treating Kili as if he were some distasteful barrel of wine that could be thrown out, that because she had loved a Dwarf it had not been real, that it'd been a horrible twist of fate.

"I do not know what you mean." She hissed in a reply and Thranduil's eyes darkened. He stepped closer, tilting his head and studying her with eyes that shined like a wolf's.

"Oh?" His voice dripped sour honey, "I did not think you so naïve, Tauriel," his voice was like a whip, lashing out at her, "Do you not realize?" He murmured softly and she set her jaw.

"No, I do not, sire. Pray tell as to what I—"

"You know very well what you do," he hissed, stepping closer to her and she lifted her chin, ignoring how her spine suddenly trembled at having him so close to her. He paused, momentarily studying her face in a way she was not accustomed to before straightening. "I will not tolerate it, especially when you have no real interest in a member of your own kin to be your mate." He finished and her hands trembled as they knotted into fists.

"You won't tolerate it?" Her voice quivered with her anger. "A member of my own kin?" She hissed and Thranduil's brows drew together but she was past caring what he did to her now. "How dare you, how _dare_ you!" She wanted to leap from the bed and throttle him. "Kili! His name was Kili!" The blankets were knotted around her legs but she kicked them free. "I loved him! How can you be so cruel?!" She stood from the bed, wobbling but faced him squarely, "I thought _you _most of all would have understood, but you don't. You misunderstand, _my lord_," her voice dripped acid and she clenched her teeth together, "whatever my personal affairs may be, they are _none _of your concern, considering they do not involve your son." She plunged ahead, not giving him time to react but she felt the tears burning behind her eyes, "Even when I was only confiding in a close friend, _nothing more! _I only wanted someone to understand! To understand—" she stopped, her angry words ending in a choked sob as she reached up and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Not wanting to see her break down she went to run past him but her legs gave out and a small cry of alarm left her lips as she pitched forward.

Before she could hit the cold stones warm arms enveloped her and Tauriel bit back a startled gasp. Thranduil brought her in close to his chest and she was stunned into silence, the tears sliding aimlessly down her cheeks. Silence followed them but her mind was hopelessly blank. She should have been angry, should have struggled against him but she couldn't. All she could think about was how warm he was, how his heartbeat enveloped her, as if it were a strange lullaby that soothed her, erasing her sorrows.

"I wouldn't understand?" Thranduil's voice was barely above a whisper, so faint that she wasn't even sure the Elvenking had even spoken but she remained silent for she had _never _been this close to her King before.

No one had…

"Look at me, Tauriel." He ordered, his voice still soft but holding the commanding tone of a king. Tauriel slowly lifted her chin and was shocked to see remorse in his fierce eyes. "I did misunderstand the situation," his voice lowered, "but I apologize for what I said concerning your Dwarf, Kili." The sound of his name leaving Thranduil's lips felt as if a hot knife had seared across her heart and she felt that final wall crumbling. Desperately trying to rebuild it she tried to pull away, to put distance between herself and those warm, surprisingly gentle and welcoming arms but her body gave out on her and she slumped against him, a broken sob leaving her lips.

She clung to the front of his robes, burying her face into his shoulder even as he brought her against him. Strangled noises left her throat, sounds that reminded her of a dying animal but Thranduil kept her close, his arms so secure around her that for the first time in a long time she felt safe.

Protected…

The world faded away until there was nothing left but her grief, and Thranduil. She could still feel his heartbeat, hear his soft breathing and feel his warmth, his gentle hands as they ran up and down her back.

How could a King with such a cold aura…

Be so warm?

It was familiar to her, she _knew _this warmth, had felt it before. Her sobbing stilled over time until she simply slumped against him, not having the energy to lift her head from his shoulder, or her body for that matter. Oddly enough Thranduil didn't order her to stop touching him or shove her away, he held her.

"You are exhausted," he murmured softly above her and she was shocked at the surprisingly calm tones that were his voice, "You should return to your bed." She felt the coldness twisting itself back into his voice but she bit her lip, suddenly embarrassed. Silence followed after his words and he obviously waited for her to step away but she couldn't.

And silently realized that she didn't want to…

Not yet anyway…

The thoughts shocked her and she worked her jaw but the harsh reality of her situation had her ducking her head slightly so that he wouldn't be able to see her face.

"I…I can't…" she whispered in a hushed voice and Thranduil stilled for a moment before a small derisive snort left him. Her room tipped for a moment as his arm dipped beneath her legs, the other wrapping around her back as he lifted her bridal style. Her eyes widened and her fingers instinctively clutched at the front of his robes. He spared her a glance, his eyes roaming over her face and she flushed, not liking the scrutiny that was in them. In one stride he was in front of her bed and lowering her down into it.

As he bent over her their cheeks brushed and he stilled, his hands still on her as she lay on the bed. Her heart quivered inside her chest and her throat ran dry but she couldn't swallow, despite her attempt to.

This wasn't right, he was the King and she…it just wasn't right, _this _wasn't right. The thought kept racing through her head. Dealing with the cold and indifferent King was so much easier than dealing with the one before her. She still found that her fingers were entangled in his robe, preventing him from moving away but as his eyes met hers it seemed that he didn't want to.

The absurd thought made her jolt and she quickly looked down, unclasping her fingers and wishing that she could sink down into the bed so that it could swallow her. Thranduil straightened, smoothing his robes down with a careful hand and tilted his head, studying her. At first she couldn't meet his eyes but a hint of a smile twitched at the corners of his lips.

The look made her stomach twist into knots…

It was unsettling…

"You will remain in bed for a week and no one besides I and the healer, Elanor, shall visit you." He turned, "You are far too weak to be receiving anyone else and I will not have your recovery time double simply because you wish to squabble with others when you need to spend your time resting." He paused at the door, turning his head so that his right eye fixed upon her. "It will do you no good to argue, though I doubt that even _you_ have the strength for that now." Tauriel opened her mouth, prepared to reprimand him but found that he was right. She didn't have the strength and she simply laid against the sheets, her eyes shooting daggers at him. A hint of a smile touched his lips, his face softening in mockery, a hint of genuine mirth gracing the outer edges of the look before he turned back to face the door. The abrupt movement caused his robes to flare out and he opened the door but before he slipped away he paused. "_Quel_ _esta, astalder._" He murmured and she blinked but before she could reply he was gone.

She stared at the door and though she was angry that he had decided to lock her away in her rooms she couldn't find the strength to rise from her bed. Instead her mind kept drifting to the way he'd held her and that he'd _apologized._ It was simply unrealistic but she found that she was beginning to like this new King.

_Like?_

Since when did she _like_ her King? She respected him, admired him even, but liked? That was a different matter entirely. Despite how her thoughts whirled she was beginning to feel how drained her body really was. The sun tipped behind the trees and her eyes closed but as she did she remembered the cold King's warmth and the word's he'd spoken in farewell.

_Quel_ _esta astalder…_

Her eyes flashed open and her head snapped back towards the door, her brows drawing into a tight frown.

No…

It couldn't have possibly of been him…

Could it?

VVVV

TRANSLATIONS:

_Hir Vun: _Beloved lord

_Nikerym: _Captain

_Arwen en amin: _My lady (formal address)

_Amin_ _naa_ _lle_ _nai: _I am yours to command

_Ohtar: _soldier

_Gwarth: _betrayer

_Dina: _Be silent

_Mellonamin: _My friend

_Quel_ _esta, astalder: _Rest well, valiant one

AUTHOR NOTE: Sorry it took so long to post! I hope you all like this new chapter! Thanks for the reviews and please continue to do so!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

She was going to die…

Tauriel scowled up at the ceiling, a sigh of annoyance and boredom leaving her lips. It'd only been two days and she was ready to pull her hair out but the King had been strict in his orders and only he and the healer, Elanor, had visited her.

Well…

Only Elanor had…

Thranduil hadn't come to see her, not once and she was shocked to find that her heart was weighed down with the feeling of disappointment.

She shook her head, rolling over onto her good side and ignoring the slight twinge of pain from her arm. Though their meetings often ended in heated arguments she found that she missed them, for at least she would be doing something, something that challenged her, invigorated her and though she didn't want to admit it, gave her life, gave her a reason.

A knock sounded at her door and she lifted her head, turning it around so that her eyes rested on the door. "Come in," she answered and waited, her breath stilling in her throat but Elanor's face appeared in the doorway. The disappointment was nearly crushing and Tauriel mentally berated herself for it, quickly plastering a smile on her face.

The healer's blue eyes softened as she stepped into the room, a bowl of herbs and other such remedies in her hands. Tauriel glimpsed a guard close the door behind Elanor and inwardly scowled. So he was keeping her under lock and key, eh? Yet he couldn't find the time to visit her—

She quickly stopped thinking about that, instead focusing on Elanor as she crossed to her, setting the bowl on the table. Her soft, but surprisingly firm hands unwound the bandage, revealing the wound beneath. Tauriel had seen ugly wounds before but this one was truly an eye opener. She turned her head, wincing as Elanor cleaned the puncture. The flesh around it had turned yellow, ringed with gruesome blues and purples but despite its appearance Elanor seemed pleased.

"It appears that the wound is beginning to heal," she murmured while slathering on a paste that made Tauriel's nose scrunch up at the odor. She didn't reply, the burning making her arm tingle but she did not complain. Finally it was wrapped and Elanor straightened, wiping her hands on one of her cloths she always carried. "You are quite lucky," she noted, her blue eyes fixing on Tauriel's face and Tauriel nodded her head, though at the moment she didn't find herself overly lucky at the moment.

"Thank you," she whispered and groggily sat up, for her head was spinning slightly. Elanor placed a steadying hand on Tauriel's shoulder, helping her sit up. "When will I be able to return to my normal duties?" Elanor eyed her, the look giving her answer away.

"Not for at least another two weeks, Captain." Elanor's tone was firm but that didn't stop Tauriel from arguing the matter.

"That won't do, what do you expect me to do for two weeks?" She asked, the edge in her words implying her unhappiness. Elanor's eyes narrowed, a warning to stay in bed but Tauriel ignored this as well and threw her legs over the bedside.

"Perhaps in a few days you may be able to do simple exercises to keep your muscles fit but nothing more." Tauriel's lips parted as she prepared to protest but before she could the doors to her quarters opened and her words died in her throat.

The King stood there, garbed in dark silver robes with a crown of simple silver atop his head. It had been the first time in days that she'd seen him and was surprised at how her heart seemed to lighten.

Even if it was just a little…

"My King," Elanor bowed her head and Tauriel blinked, quickly doing the same.

"Is your patient not cooperating with your instructions?" Thranduil casually asked while whisking into the room. Tauriel inwardly flinched but looked away, her cheeks flaming slightly from embarrassment.

"No more so than others, _Hir Vun._" She answered honestly and Tauriel glanced sheepishly back towards him. He'd stopped by one of the windows, the afternoon light streaking in behind to bathe his silhouette in their golden rays.

"Very well, you may leave us now." He ordered and Elanor tipped her head in a courteous bow before slipping away. Silence filled the room and Tauriel shifted on the bed. For days she'd wanted to see him, to hear his voice and have those eyes filled with winter frost upon her once more but now that he _was _here she didn't know what to do. The King had comforted her, comforted her in a way that she thought impossible for him and now…now she didn't know which King she would be greeted with today.

Or which one she wanted…

"You look better, Captain." His words made her eyes snap to his before they quickly lowered.

"Thank you, sire." She cleared her throat and looked up at him once more. He had not moved from his position by the window, his hands remaining folded in front of him, but it wasn't the cold look on his serene face that left her feeling unsettled.

It was his eyes…

There was the barest hint of fondness in the icy depths of bright blue and she suddenly wondered what they would look like when he laughed.

_If _he ever laughed…

"Tauriel," the sharp use of her name brought her back to reality and she jolted, "it is not polite to stare." He smoothly stated, his tone and the slight arch of his brow insinuating that he particularly didn't appreciate her ogling him.

Wait…

Ogling?!

That was preposterous, she'd never do that, especially to _Thranduil_, her _King!_

"Apologies," she stuttered and ducked her head, hoping to hide her flaming cheeks from him.

_What was wrong with her?!_

"I trust that Elanor makes sure that you are comfortable?" His question had her eyes lifting to his, a puzzled frown on her face.

"Yes, she does." She replied but he must not have believed her simple answer. One of his brows lifted smoothly and he took a step towards her.

"Yet?" He prompted softly and she swallowed, slightly nervous but found the idea preposterous and steeled her nerves. She'd had no problem with telling the King what she had thought in the past and just because he'd comforted her didn't mean that that was going to change.

"I do not see why I am forbidden to receive anyone else besides Elanor and yourself, sire. I am perfectly fine with visitors." This time Thranduil's eyes shined at her answer and he must have known the reason for her irritation but had wanted her to voice it instead.

"You're disagreeing with an order from your King?" He clucked his tongue once, "You must _certainly _be feeling better." Tauriel blinked at his words, not knowing how to take them but something gleamed in his blue eyes, something that she hadn't seen before.

He was teasing her…

"Regardless, you will receive no one until you are recovered." He ordered, his tone and face firm once more, and Tauriel clamped her jaw.

"You'd leave me alone in this room to rot then?" The heated words had left her lips before she had realized but this time both of Thranduil's brows lifted.

"If I wanted you to rot, Tauriel," his lips twitched at the corners to form a mocking smile, "I would have had you thrown in the dungeons centuries ago. You certainly wouldn't have rooms like these to benefit your longs years either." He pointed out but Tauriel didn't see the humor.

"Please, sire, reconsider. I would like to know what is going on in the world outside my quarters." Her words caused him to pause, considering her.

"You were ever the curious little Elleth," he murmured and she stiffened at the form of address but before she could retort he continued, "Nevertheless, it must be trying to lie about all day," she didn't miss how his eyes shined at his comment, "and not know what goes on in the Kingdom, especially considering your previous position." At his words she felt her heart lighten.

"So you will allow me to receive visitors?" She asked, the hopeful notes ringing in her words but a dark smirk touched the Elvenking's lips.

"I never gave such an impression," he retorted and Tauriel felt her heart drop, "However, if you wish it, I shall tell you everyday of what has happened. Are we agreed?" His smooth words left her speechless, caught off guard.

He was willing to come and see her, _every _day and tell her about what had transpired? Didn't he have other matters to attend to?

"What of your other duties, sire?" She asked, leaning forward in the bed, "Wouldn't—"

"Think nothing of them," his bitter tone had her closing her mouth, "if it will keep you from throwing a tantrum every time Elanor comes to tend you then I will manage to sacrifice a few hours of my time with you." His brows quirked at the edges as his eyes ran over her hair. "However, I will not look upon you so." He gestured with his hand. "Have someone cut your hair appropriately." His eyes shined and his mouth twisted slightly at the edges. "Your appearance is more uncouth than normal." His unsympathetic words shouldn't have surprised her, not when it came to her grief, not when it came to _her _in general, but nonetheless they did. Her hands knotted in the blankets and she lifted her chin, feeling the fire of anger flash in her eyes.

"No, I will not." Her abrupt refusal caused him to pause, his eyes carefully surveying her face with icy scrutiny. Then, ever so slowly, a hint of a dark smile blossomed across his lips.

"Very well, then I am afraid you shall remain here. You're only visitor being that of Elanor." He turned, his long hair flowing out and Tauriel clamped her jaw. She'd die if she didn't have someone, even if it was the _King_, to distract her from her thoughts.

To distract her from Kili…

But she wasn't going to let him of so easily…

Not this time…

"I agree, but," she paused as Thranduil slowly turned his head to fix her with his right eye, "only if you do it." She watched as his face remained emotionless, giving away nothing. She knew that he'd refuse, that he'd turn around and leave her and she straightened, prepared for it, prepared to at least have the last word in but then something came into his wintry gaze.

Mirth…

"As you wish," he murmured softly, his voice like silk, before turning and striding over to her. "Turn." He ordered and her stomach clenched.

He was really going to do it?

At her lack of response one brow rose, offering her no argument and she obeyed, twisting her body about so that her back faced him. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him reach for a long comb, his lean fingers holding it with such ease. The thought of them touching her hair suddenly made her palms tingle but she stiffened when he ran the comb through her hair, untangling the knots. He said nothing and the silence made it worse. It made her acutely aware of how close he was behind her, of the gentle swipe of the brush, of how his fingers trailed after it so make sure there were no other tangles.

Thranduil was brushing her hair…

_Thranduil_…

She bit her lip when she felt his fingers slide through her hair, keeping the startled gasp from leaving her throat. Tingles raced along her neck, causing goose flesh to rise on her arms. The movement didn't seem to cause him any unease, as if it were the most natural thing in the world but it was oddly…intimate.

What was wrong with her?

The sharp click of a knife told her that he must have drawn a dagger from his robes and was now cutting her hair. The thought was oddly calming, but yet still unsettling. To have her King do this was unthinkable, especially for _her._ Yet the act was not feminine, not when he was doing it with such confidence.

Perhaps what was only minutes felt like hours as Thranduil calmly and gracefully cut her hair. Yet when she thought he was done she thought she felt his fingers linger, letting the fiery strands slide over and through his fingers.

The thought made her heart pound…

"There, you're appearance dimly resembles that of an Elf." His callused words were a stark contrast to the gentleness that he'd just portrayed towards her and she swallowed, not trusting herself to speak quite yet.

"Thank you, sire." Tauriel finally bit out, her cheeks flaming. She hesitantly turned back towards him, keeping her eyes lowered but they strayed to the small hand mirror beside the bed. Thranduil saw her looking and wordlessly picked it up, offering it to her. When she saw her reflection her green eyes widened. The jagged cuts were no longer there. Instead they blended smoothly together, the ends reaching the tips of her shoulders. She suddenly looked older, more mature and oddly more intimating.

"I trust that when I return you'll be in more proper attire." His tone was formal, his face that same indifferent mask and she looked up at him. He had not moved back yet, still remaining at the edge of the bed and she realized how tall he was, how regal and intimidating, portraying both grace and power.

And he was only _standing _there…

"Yes, my lord." She replied, ducking her head in what she hoped would be taken as a bow of respect. Thranduil did not reply, the silence stretching on and it caused her to hesitantly lift her eyes to his face once more. His own was fastened upon her hair, his cold mask of indifference momentarily slipping to reveal him deep in thought. He seemed miles away, lost in perhaps years of thought. He must have realized that he'd unintentionally let his guard down and he stiffened, the wall slamming down so hard and fast that she blinked.

"_Quel_ _esta_, Captain." Thranduil called over his shoulder as he turned, striding from her room. Tauriel watched him go, her brows drawing together in confusion and annoyance.

Why did he have to be so difficult?

So annoying, so frustrating and—

She stopped thinking, emptying her head with a heavy sigh. It would only increase her stress and sleep deprivation if she continued to think over such matters as the King.

Especially when she couldn't change them…

She lowered her body back onto the sheets, her eyes drifting close. Her hand ghosted up to touch her hair, feeling the soft strands. She suddenly wanted Thranduil's fingers in her hair, twisting it about his fingers while—

Her eyes popped open and she sat up, pressing the heel of her good hand to her forehead.

Something _really _was wrong with her…

VVVV

What was wrong with him?

Thranduil couldn't help but inwardly scowl at the report before him. The Elf, Faerveren, stood before him, his head bowed respectfully. The report signified the growing numbers of spiders in the forest, of how their induced venom was increasing the rate of disease amongst the trees. He would speak with Arahaelon once more on this matter, to see if anything else could be found out about this new breed.

"You have done well, Faerveren." Thranduil's words must have startled the young Elf, for he jolted, quickly lifting his head to stare at him. The display was annoying to Thranduil, for he knew long lapses of silence left every one of his subjects uneasy except for a select few. One being Arahaelon, who despite his station, he considered to be one of his closest allies and the other being Tauriel. She'd been the only one to openly fight his coldness with her fiery rage and as he thought of it, it was starting to rub off on him.

Having meek minded subjects was quite…

Boring…

He found that he missed her fire, missed her ire and he missed vexing her, missed seeing that spark enter her eyes when he'd angered her.

He inwardly snorted, perhaps _missed _was too much.

Or maybe it wasn't…

"Thank you, my lord." Faerveren uttered as he quickly placed his hand over his heart, bowing once more and interrupting Thranduil's thoughts. The sight of Faerveren irked him, and the irritation only seemed to darken his mood for he usually enjoyed seeing people bow before him.

"You have proved yourself over the past few days," he smoothly dropped the report to his desk, eyeing the male Elf. He was fair featured but naïve, his innocence shining openly in his dark eyes.

Was that why Tauriel favored him?

The thought made his brows draw harshly together before he could hide it and Faerveren must have taken it as a display of harsh disappointment, for his face paled and he readily bowed again.

""I apologize, sire, if I have not—"

"It doesn't matter," Thranduil coldly cut in, his tone like a finely edged sword, "Under the circumstances you have proved yourself responsible and trustworthy." He stood, his robes of black and red flowing down from his shoulders and across his body, "If you continue as you are, you may rise higher yet." He moved out from behind the desk, crossing to the wine to pour himself a glass.

"Thank you, my lord." There was a pause as Thranduil poured the wine and he sensed the young Elf's anxiety.

"What is it?" He asked, a slight sigh of irritation escaping his lips as he raised the wine glass to them.

"Apologies, sire, it is just that it has been four days and yet nothing has been said of Taur—I mean of Captain Tauriel's condition. How does she fare?" Thranduil noted the anxiety and concern in his voice, noted how he called her first name with such familiarity. He took his time, swallowing deeply once before lowering the glass and fixing the Elf with a chilling and indifferent, perhaps nearly bored, glare.

"She is still recovering." His simple answer was not enough for Faerveren and he quietly watched the emotions play across his face. Finally they settled and he nodded, ducking his head once more.

"Will she be able to receive visitors, and if so when?" He asked softly and Thranduil paused, considering his answer.

"Perhaps, but it is still too soon." He smoothly strode past Faerveren to lower his form down into the chair behind his desk. "Leave me now." He ordered and he saw the puzzled look cross Faerveren's face, saw the irritation flash once in his eyes but it was gone a moment later. He nodded his head once more, bowing.

"Yes, _Hir Vun_." Thranduil lowered his eyes to the papers stacked before him as Faerveren exited. Silence engulfed his study and he absentmindedly sipped at the wine. His mind should have been focused on the memorial he was constructing for the fallen and on reports Lord Elrond had sent him from Rivendell but alas, his mind wandered to red hair and flashing green eyes.

What was so intriguing about her?

So hypnotizing?

His fingers curled around the stem of the glass and he set the drink aside, picking up the plans for the memorial when there came a light knock on his door. He recognized it but did not lift his eyes from the piece of parchment.

"Enter." He called and Arahaelon stepped into the study. His face was calm, his hands clasping a rather large stack of papers. Thranduil flicked his eyes to the Elf's face before gesturing with his head to the end of his desk. Arahaelon strode forward and placed the bundle where Thranduil had indicated but remained standing there, waiting to be recognized.

"Any news?" Thranduil inquired as he made a note. Arahaelon watched him a moment, his keen eyes following the movement of Thranduil's fingers as he wrote on a separate piece of scroll.

"None that would be welcomed, sire." He murmured and at the grave tone Arahaelon had used Thranduil stilled, sitting down the quill he'd been writing with and giving him his full attention.

"Tell me." He ordered and Arahaelon's chest lifted in a small sigh.

"As you wish, _Hir Vun_." He replied.

And began…

Hours later Thranduil strode through the halls, his thoughts whirling. Arahaelon had managed to trace back the sorcery used upon the spiders due to being able to further study them and what he had found alarmed Thranduil. It had traces of magic used to forge the Rings and he knew of only one capable of honing such sorcery.

But that was not all…

Lord Elrond had sent a messenger to his halls, informing of nearby human villages being raided. Yet it was not a typical raid where the Orcs plundered and burnt houses, slaughtering as they went.

They were taking children…

And they were getting closer…

Yet his mind did not fully dwell on the matter, for another still vexed him. There had been a sighting of Legolas with a group of men, defending a village that would have been raided. It was located along the eastern far border of his kingdom while the darkness radiating from Dol Guldur was growing, spreading from the south.

He inwardly shuddered as he remembered that dark and twisted place but inevitably he felt the weight of loss settle about his shoulders. The loss of so many lives, now fully counted, seemed to pull him down. He'd lost over a third of his company in aiding the Dwarves and Men and he failed in retrieving the heirlooms of his people. Dain had honored Thorin's promise to Bard, but had not seen the sense in returning the jewels to Thranduil.

He did not know the true reason Thranduil treasured them so, as few really did. It angered him, grieved him that he'd failed in obtaining them. He'd sent countless messengers to deal with Dain, to seek aide from Bard who was only happy to help with the task of convincing Dain but the stubborn Dwarf had been firm in his belief.

Ignorant Dwarf…

Clamping his jaw, Thranduil strode into a small circular room, a simple pool at the base. He ignored the crystalline waters, instead crossing to the small table to pour himself a glass of wine. Drinking deeply from the rich liquid he let the fire settle in his chest, chasing away some of the iciness.

But it didn't chase away the memories…

Didn't chase away the sight of the blood that soaked the stone and snow, didn't chase away the mourning families that now gathered at the memorial that would be erected in the following week.

And it certainly didn't chase away the emptiness in his heart…

Legolas had always managed to fill a small portion of it, yet now…

His fingers curled and a grunt of disgust left his throat as he placed the wine once more upon the table. He knew that drowning his sorrows would not chase away the ache they always left in his heart but at times like these he would always seek the company of his son. Though he never uttered such words to Legolas, he'd been a comfort beyond measure. Just his presence alone was enough to keep Thranduil from tipping towards the darkness but now…

Now he was gone…

Anger flashed within his breast and he turned, seeking an object to unleash his wrath upon but halted at the patter of feet. He paused, listening and was therefore already looking at the Elf who intruded upon his solace. Elanor, the healer, jolted slightly from embarrassment but as she ducked her head he noted her frazzled state.

"Apologies, sire, I did not know you—"

"What troubles you?" He smoothly interrupted, not interest in hearing her apologize. Elanor hesitantly lifted her eyes to his before straightening, the bundle of bandages she carried showing that she was making her way to the stream below to wash them. He saw her pause, mulling over her answer to him and he only had to narrow his eyes in order for her to quickly comply.

"It is Captain Tauriel, my lord. She insists on exercising, though I fear that she will over exert herself." Her words didn't surprise Thranduil, for he had not visited her yet today.

He'd have to fix that…

"Very well," he strode up to her, "Do not concern yourself with such matters, I will deal with her." At his words her eyes narrowed and her face became firm.

"Do not mistake me, my lord. I only worry for her welfare. I have seen enough warriors to know that she will push herself and I can hold my own against her, even if she is the Captain." Her eyes gleamed and she lifted her chin ever so slightly. "There was a time that even I took care of a King who was just as stubborn." Her words startled Thranduil for a moment, for most of his subjects did not speak so boldly to him but he calmed, for he could not deny it.

"You may leave now, Elanor." His words were not harsh, just a simple order and Elanor dipped her head before moving on. He watched the sway of her dress against the stones before turning and returning to the winding halls. It was not long before he stood outside Tauriel's door and pushed it open.

What he found amused him…

Tauriel was standing in the middle of the room, her brows drawn together tightly as she tried to keep herself up right. She was succeeding, though he noticed how her legs trembled and how pale her face was. She wore a simple night shift of white but when she turned to face him halfway the fading sun behind her highlighted her form and he froze.

Curves, subtle and beautiful, bathed in fiery gold were suddenly before him. His throat closed and the same fire that seemed to bathe her in light struck him at his core, coursing throughout his body in violent waves. Then she glanced up, realizing that someone was there and emerald green met icy blue.

Embarrassment had her cheeks flushing and she whirled to face him fully but he saw her eyes widening as she realized how weak her body was. She tipped, her hands flying out to grasp at anything and it seemed as if his body moved on its own. He was across the room in a single bound, his arms enveloping her body and hauling her in close to his. At the touch of her skin, even through the shift, felt as if he'd been burned but he did not release her. Tauriel's arms had came up, instinctively grasping his shoulders to steady herself and he felt her tremble. It might have perhaps been in fear but something told him it wasn't.

Or at least…

He hoped it wasn't…

Silence enveloped them and he looked down into her flushed face, silently mesmerized by it. Her eyes, a shimmering emerald, glittered more finely than the stones they resembled while her lips, full and tempting, parted as she breathed.

What would they taste like?

The thought made him stiffen and Tauriel quickly lowered her eyes, clearing her throat and trying to wiggle free but he gave a small, derisive snort and tightened his hold on her.

"Do you _wish _to fall?" He snapped and she flinched but kept her head lowered.

"Ap-Apologies, my lord." She stuttered and the sound of her voice, so sweet and lilting and so painfully nervous had his heart beating faster in his chest. Annoyed at how flushed and unnerved he was he grunted once more and lifted her. She yelped, clinging to him as he deposited her on the bed.

"You disobeyed me yet again, Elleth." He growled, angry that his heart had not yet returned to the lump of ice inside his chest yet. Tauriel blinked at him in confusion but he was suddenly relieved when anger erupted inside her eyes.

"How so my lord?" She snapped back in a reply and this time he couldn't help the small smile that twitched at the corners of his lips. The sight gave her pause but he idly placed his hands behind his back, fixing her with an even stare.

"You were exercising," he casually lifted one brow, "and rather poorly I might add." He watched the fire brighten in her eyes and couldn't help how the weight that adorned his shoulders seemed to lighten.

"I beg your pardon, sire, but I was merely trying to—"

"Injure yourself further," he interrupted and Tauriel clamped her mouth shut, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, if perhaps I had company I would not be as apt to decrease my recovery time by trying to rebuild my strength." Her biting remark was not lost on him, in fact he felt a slight twinge of regret for not coming to visit her as he had promised, but that should not matter. He was a King, _her _King, and so was not tied down to the lowly promises he made her but nonetheless, it was a promise.

"You do now," he glanced around the room and spying a chair, though it did not look overly comfortable, lowered down into it. Tauriel watched him, shock covering her face and he couldn't help the gloating smirk that touched his lips. There were a few moments of silence before he waved his hand, his expression turning to that of boredom, tinged with iciness. "I do not have all evening, ask your questions so that I may leave." He ordered and Tauriel blinked at him once more, her brows drawing together slightly as her lips thinned.

"Very well," she paused, running her eyes over him and he inwardly stiffened, feeling as if she sensed something was wrong with him. "How do you fare?" Her question caught him off guard, for she was to ask about the _Kingdom_, not him. He watched her, considering his answer but he found that her gaze did not falter under the scrutiny of his.

"You are to ask about the Kingdom, Captain, not about my own personal self." He stiffly reminded her but Tauriel only lifted her chin.

"The Kingdom is only as healthy as its King, my lord." She retorted and tilted her head, "And I feel as if you are not as you seem." She murmured and outwardly he remained cold and impassive, while inside he trembled and shook with anger.

How dare she make such a statement?!

He did not need her comfort, he needed the comfort of his son, not this Elf who—

He stopped thinking when she shifted, leaning forward and reaching out with her hand. He paused, his eyes fastening upon her fingers as they lightly brushed the cuff of his finely stitched tunic. He should have ripped his hand back, standing and reprimanding her for touching him without his permission but at the brush of her fingers he felt that same warmth travel up his arm and into his chest.

He suddenly wanted to grab onto them, to envelope them with his own for he was so cold and she…

She was so warm…

He clenched his jaw and was about to remove his arm when she spoke.

"Please," she whispered and his eyes slowly lifted to hers. Instead of defiance and anger he found true concern, true compassion, in her eyes and he felt his armor start to crack. Struggling for a hold he straightened and turned, standing and moving away from her but he found that his feet did not take him to her door, instead he crossed to the window, placing his hands upon the sill so that he could look out over the trees.

He could not tell her of his troubles, she would only offer pointless solutions that would cost more lives but he found that the deep ache in his chest was growing, to the point where it became hard to breathe. How could he share anything with the person who had ripped the soul reason for his existence away from him? How did she expect him to do so?

Yet…

He found that his armor was crumbling away, the ice thawing and melting until his lips parted and his broken words spilled forth.

"The exact count of the fallen was made today." He murmured and he lifted his eyes above the trees to the sky that shined like fire. The sight burned his heart but he continued. "There were so many." He whispered and his fingers curled tighter around the sill. "Yet," he released a breath that caused his frame to shudder, "that is not all. That Dwarf, Dain, refuses to return what belongs to our race," his voice dropped, "what is rightfully mine." That same feeling of failure assaulted him and he closed his eyes, shoving it away, "The shadow to the south grows and a new evil is stirring within the land. One I have not seen in many, many years." His mind returned to that same bloody battlefield, where the sky had been bleak and grey and where the swamp had become the tomb for many.

Including his father…

"The Elf, Rhawen, has yet to return from visiting her father with news of this new breed of Orc while Arahaelon now knows why the spiders have changed. A type of sorcery, long forgotten, seems to have been reawakened within the halls of Dol Guldur." Even uttering the name left him vulnerable but he ignored it, keeping his eyes fastened upon the sky. He heard the soft whisper of sheets and glanced over his shoulder to see that Tauriel had stood from the bed but gripped the banister for support. His eyes narrowed, his mouth opening to lecture her but she spoke before he could.

"That tells me of the Kingdom, sire, but I asked of you." She murmured and he narrowed his eyes.

Clever wrench…

"I have nothing to say concerning such a matter, especially to _you._" He replied, his voice cold, but when he saw that warmth that was in her eyes…

She had no right to look at him that way, especially after what he said, what he'd _done _to her. He'd scorned her love for the Dwarf, Kili, had banished her, had threatened her with death and on her return had repeatedly tore her down time and time again.

Yet she still…

He clenched his jaw, his fingers biting into the wood on the sill and he turned back around.

"Sire," she breathed and the word and he felt her draw near, "I know that since Legolas's departure," he stiffened and turned towards her, "you have not been yourself." She finished and he saw regret cross her features. "I-I'm sorry that I couldn't…that I couldn't love him the way that he wanted me to or…or that…" her words trailed off but he waited, watching her. "I know the pain of having no one near that helps ease the sorrow of loss. I just wanted you to know…to know that I…I will listen." She whispered and he stared at her. She had stepped a little from the banister and he watched her legs wobble but he did not reach out for her.

Despite the urge to…

He watched her for a long time and something settled within him.

"Very well," he murmured and couldn't help the irony of the situation, "I do miss the loss of my son, however," the words would taste bitter but they'd be the truth, "you were not the sole reason for his departure from my halls." His voice was low, a mere whisper but Tauriel did not object, simply listening as she had told him she would do. "My coldness, my harshness," his tone slipped, revealing the sadness and pain that lurked within him, "is from many lifetimes of experiencing loss and he," Thranduil paused, "was a means to stay that darkness within me yet my indifference drove him from my side." He heard his voice crack but remained firm, unyielding, "He sought in you what he thought I could not give him." He felt his hands tremble as he stared into her green eyes. "He sought love and it was not your duty to give it to him, not when he sought it from his father and especially when your own heart was promised to another." His eyes trailed down to the pouch that still hung from her neck and he couldn't help the light twinge of his heart, "I…" he stopped, unable to continue as his throat closed and he looked away. Though they were not touching, nor were they overly close, the moment was still unnervingly intimate.

He didn't like it…

Not one bit…

"Legolas knows you love him sire, even I saw that." Her softly spoken words drew his eyes to her face, "You've carried the burden of being King for a very long time," Tauriel's face softened, "I was too naïve to see the pain that can come from it," she whispered, "forgive me." She dipped her head, her hair like fire falling forward to slide against her cheek. He watched the strands and his fingers itched to touch them but he ignored the urge. He turned, looking towards her door but she straightened, drawing his attention back to her. "May I make a request?" She asked and he waited before slowly dipping his head in a nod. Tauriel paused and for a moment he thought he saw her courage abandon her but she straightened, lifting her chin. "I would like to continue to hear of your troubles, of what pains you, if you would allow me to do so." Her words should have sent out a warning, telling him to withdraw, to lash out at her and place her at arm's length once more but as he looked at her he suddenly realized something.

He didn't want to…

After years of being alone in his indifference, in his coldness and walled off heart he wanted a small shred of warmth he could hold onto, cling to even.

And she was it…

But he wasn't about to give in that easily…

Not yet…

"Perhaps," he whispered and stepped towards her as the sun tipped below the trees, "but first you will return to bed." Her mouth opened in protest but he silenced it with a pointed glare. Closing her mouth she turned, sliding onto the bed but Thranduil reached up, taking her arm and she paused, glancing down at it before her eyes flitted up to his. They held each other's gaze but a moment before she looked away and he silently helped her into the bed.

As she relaxed against the soft sheets he gazed down at her and dimly wondered if he was making another mistake. So many that had grown close to him often perished, either from another's hand or that of his unfeeling heart.

He hoped she wouldn't be one of them…

"I will visit you on the morrow, Captain." He murmured and before he could reprimand himself he leaned down, softly pressing his lips against her cool temple, "_Quel_ _esta, astalder._" He whispered before withdrawing.

"_Quel du_, _Hir Vun_." Tauriel replied and he paused at her door and glanced at her over his shoulder. "May you sleep well." She finished and he slowly dipped his head in a farewell before passing through the doorway, shutting the door quietly behind him. As he walked through the halls he couldn't help but notice the slight change in him.

He felt…

Warmer…

He realized the source of it and couldn't help the smile that touched his lips.

VVVV

Tauriel watched Thranduil leave and her fingers curled into the sheets. At the action she looked down to them, studying them with her eyes.

It'd been him…

He'd been the one that had held her hand, enveloped her in his warmth that had saved her from the darkness. She now saw it within him and she raised her eyes to the door.

She'd be the one to save him now…

She owed it to Legolas, owed it to Thranduil, even if he didn't see the sense in it, but most of all, she owed it to herself. She'd been unable to save Kili, been unable to love Legolas, so maybe if she was able to have the King feel once more, she'd do right by her failures.

But something odd settled in her chest…

_Was _that the reason she was doing this?

Or was it because of something else entirely?

VVVV

TRANSLATIONS:

_Hir Vun: _Beloved Lord

_Quel esta: _Rest well

_Quel esta, astalder: _Rest well, Valiant one

_Quel du: _Goodnight

AUTHOR NOTE: Sorry it took so long to post! I hope I did a good job of portraying Thranduil as he opened up to Tauriel, even if it was just a little bit, sorry if I didn't! Hope you all like it! Please review and tell me what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

It was warm…

The bed unexplainably soft…

She sighed and rolled over, opening her eyes to glimpse elegant walls. A muddled thought of how beautiful they were filtered through her head as her eyes drifted closed once more but a moment later they snapped open.

She wasn't in her room…

Instead she was in a bed, as soft as goose down, and seemed to resemble a tree. She frowned, looking about at the arched windows that let her glimpse wild gardens and distant trees. She'd never been here before, she was sure of it.

So where _was _she?

Then she heard a soft murmur, deep and rich and Tauriel flicked her eyes down to the figure that lay beside her.

And froze...

It was the Elvenking…

And he was sleeping…

His face was calm and serene, no longer holding coldness and harsh indifference. Her eyes ran over the smooth brows, the high cheek bones and down to his sensual lips that were not hardened with bitterness. His lips parted as he breathed softly. The faint morning light streaked in through the arched windows, highlighting his golden hair that lay across the pillows in a tussled pool of gold.

One arm, toned and perfect, was draped across the pillows and she flushed when she realized that she must have been sleeping on it. The other lay curled towards her, his long, lean fingers resting on her thigh. His skin felt as if it were burning hers and swallowed. The blanket that covered them had pooled at his waist, exposing his bare chest and she stared. She knew Thranduil to be strong, but she'd never seen his exposed flesh before. Muscles blended perfectly together, creating a beautiful but deadly masterpiece, one that made her throat run dry and her heart pound harshly against her ribs.

It was beautiful…

_He _was beautiful…

Her palms tingled and she suddenly wanted to reach up and touch the sinewy flesh, to feel the silkiness of it. Tentatively she raised her hand, her fingers skimming the hard muscles. They felt like iron underneath the soft, pale skin and her breath hitched as she marveled at the _power _that was in them. At her touch he stirred, a name falling from his lips.

"Tauriel," he breathed, his voice low and husky from sleep. The sound made her stomach clench and she stopped, her eyes drifting upward until they met his. They were still hazy from sleep but instead of icy blue tinged with silver they shined with something else.

Warmth…

"Good morning," he whispered and she found that she couldn't reply when the hand he'd had draped across the pillows reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. "Admiring the view are we, _A'maelamin_?" He coyly asked and her lips parted in a startled gasp but then he was leaning _towards _her, using the gentle grip he had on her cheek to pull her down to him.

Wait…

He wasn't going to?

His lips met hers…

Tauriel shot awake, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. Her heart was pounding and her palms were tingling and she didn't even have to look in a mirror to know that her face was the same shade as her hair.

What had she just dreamt?

She ran her hand over her face, blinking several times while trying to calm her erratic breathing. It had just been a dream, a silly and—

The sound of her door opening interrupted her thoughts and she turned her head but when she saw who stood there she could have happily disappeared into thin air.

Thranduil…

He stood in the doorway, a puzzled brow slightly lifted and Tauriel swallowed, finding her throat suddenly dry. He was dressed in fine silver, tinged with green and she noted that he wore his crown of leaves atop his head.

"Good morning, sire." Tauriel cleared her throat, straightening her spine and forcing her flaming cheeks to cool.

"It is actually the afternoon, Captain." Thranduil corrected and Tauriel jumped, swiveling her head to stare out the windows. Sure enough it was in fact midday and she was shocked at how long she'd slept.

And how peaceful it had been…

Well except for that preposterous dream…

"Your slumber was peaceful, I assume?" Thranduil asked as he strode across her small bedchamber, lowering his form down into the chair he had taken before. This time Tauriel knew she could not hide her blush but she did try by looking down at her hands.

"Yes…it was." She cleared her throat and forced herself to look up at him. "And yourself, my lord?" She asked, hoping to shift his attention away from her. Thranduil eyed her, studying her with his wintry gaze and she suddenly remembered how they had looked at her in the dream.

Would he ever look at her like that?

The thought made her jolt and she quickly looked away, clearing her throat once more and scrambling to remain calm.

"_You _are why I am here, Captain." He tilted his head, his eyes running over her, "It seems as if you are not yourself," his eyes narrowed, "you are not withholding any vital information concerning your illness from Elanor are you?" His question, though firm and somewhat cold, held something else.

Concern…

"N-No, sire, I am not." She answered, staring at him. He fixed her with another one of his scrutinizing glares, trying to decide if she was telling the truth or not but he seemed to realize that she was and dipped his head in a slight nod.

"Very well," he leaned back in the chair, resting his arms along the armrests and though it was only a simple chair he made it appear as if it were the grandest of thrones.

"If I may?" Tauriel began softly and Thranduil nodded once more, closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the chair. Tauriel noted the slight change in him, oh he still had his walls of ice placed firmly around him but he seemed more…relaxed. "How does Faerveren and the rest of the Elves under my command fare? I have not seen nor heard anything from them," a hint of a smile was in her tone so that he knew that she was teasing but her eyes flashed as she finished, "I would like to know." It was a long moment before Thranduil opened his eyes, slowly lowering his head so that the icy orbs settled upon her. He considered his answer before opening his mouth to reply.

"I have sent them on a scouting mission." His reply made her pause and she took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"A scouting mission?" She inquired. Thranduil glanced towards the window, his face resembling boredom but she wasn't about to be put off.

"Yes, to scout our eastern perimeter." Tauriel frowned and bit the inside of her lip. Getting information out of the King was like trying to extract a stray arrow from the trunk of a tree.

"Why?" She watched him carefully and Thranduil's eyes came back to hers.

"A band of Orcs have taken to raiding villages of Men. They've been taking children into the forest. I sent Faerveren and the Elves under his temporary command to intercept any bands of Orcs they may find, but to scout our perimeter. That is not all; it seems that the Orcs are not attacking at random. They are receiving information concerning which villages are guarded and which are not." The news shocked Tauriel.

"Why would they do such a thing and who would help them?" Her gut twisted as anger and disgust whelmed up inside her.

"If I knew, Captain, I suspect I would be doing more than sending a group of my Elves to scout the perimeter, now wouldn't I?" His words made her glare at him.

Here was the King she knew…

"Very well," she still couldn't help the worry that clawed at her gut, "How long will they be gone?" She asked and Thranduil continued to eye her.

"For five days." He answered and she inwardly jolted at the length of time.

"That long?" The words left her lips before she could contain them and Thranduil smoothly lifted one brow.

"Yes." He paused before continuing, "Do you foresee a problem with that, or," he leaned forward, "is the reason you are so concerned is because of a _certain _Elf?" His words were like honey but his eyes shimmered with ice. Tauriel's eyes narrowed and she lifted her chin.

"It's for _more _than a _certain _Elf; it's for all of the Elves." She snapped back in a reply and Thranduil gave an unconvinced snort as he withdrew.

"I am sure," he murmured and her hands curled into fists.

"We have already had this discussion, my lord." She bit out and kept her eyes level with his, refusing to back down, "Would you care to discuss it again?" She taunted and a hint of a smirk, dark and without humor, played about Thranduil's lips.

"Perhaps another time, Captain," his lips thinned slightly, "but I have other matters to discuss with you." She paused, slightly shocked that there were matters he wanted to discuss with _her _and not with Arahaelon.

"Yes, sire?" She questioned and for a moment he looked weary, tired, before he answered her.

"Your weaponry." He stated and she blinked.

"My weaponry?" She repeated and Thranduil gave her a bored look.

"Yes, even though you are the Captain of the Guard you use mere daggers," he gestured with his eyes to the set of silver blades that rested on her dresser, "and though they are fine weapons, they put you at a disadvantage. I've decided that from now you will use twin Elven swords instead." He stood and the door opened to reveal an Elf she recognized from the armory. He carried a bundle in his arms and with his head bowed, shuffled forward, halting at the King's side. Thranduil reached up and removed the top layer of green cloth, revealing twin blades that shined from the afternoon sun.

They were beautiful…

"But sire I have no training concerning—" Thranduil held up his hand, cutting her off.

"I am well aware," he murmured while lowering the raised hand to place it behind his back. "Therefore," he inclined his head to the Elf who nodded and placed the swords beside the daggers on her dresser, "I will train you." She stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Also," he turned back to face her as the Elf left her quarters, "training will give you exercise and strengthen your arm." She still continued to stare at him.

"Why?" She uttered and he tilted his head, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Why?" He quoted and his eyes shimmered, "Once you have healed I would not want you to reinjure yourself, dealing with a new Captain would be frivolous. Besides," the smug smile softened, revealing genuine mirth, "I have grown accustomed to chastising you." Tauriel couldn't decide if the King meant his final words to be some form of a compliment but after a moment she softened, her own lips curling up slightly at the edges as she lifted a brow.

"Are you saying that'd you'd miss reprimanding me, sire?" Tauriel teased and Thranduil snorted.

"Perhaps _miss _would be too strong of a word to describe such a state but," he paused, his eyes, so bright and fierce, studying her, "dealing with such matters would certainly be less trying if you would not so openly defy me at every decision I make." He commented and this time Tauriel couldn't help the teasing smile that bloomed across her lips.

"Then who would, sire? After all," she tilted her head, eyeing him slyly, "we both know life would not nearly be as," she paused, searching for the right word, "_interesting _if we did not irritate the other." Never before had they spoken so…calmly before, so openly, and Tauriel watched, gauging his reaction. Though his face remained impassive she saw the faint gleam of amusement in the depthless orbs of wintry blue that were his eyes.

It gave her hope…

"A fitting word." He murmured, his voice low and Tauriel hesitated, confused. It seemed as if they were talking of something more than their previous discussion.

"For what, sire?" She asked and a grin turned the corners of his lips.

"I have spoken with the healer, Elanor; in two days time she says that your arm will be ready to handle the sword, but only gradually. In the meantime," his voice became firm but not harsh, "you are ordered to take plenty of rest." His face became that of a King's, hard and forlorn, "Do you understand?" Even though it was a question he hardly made it sound like one but Tauriel dipped her head in a nod.

"Yes, my lord." She answered with a sigh and Thranduil, though perhaps displeased about the sigh, said nothing. He watched her for a moment, their eyes holding each others before Tauriel remembered the dream, remembered his bare chest, the way he'd looked, his disheveled hair, his relaxed, serene face and warm eyes with skin as soft as silk but so hot that it felt as if it might burn her when she touched him.

And she'd touched him…

Her throat ran dry when she thought of how his chest had looked in the dream. Did it _really _look like that? Her eyes flitted down to the brooch that held the collar of his robes together, concealing the flesh beneath. Irritation flamed inside her gut before she could squash it and Tauriel gave her head a small, derisive shake.

"Are you feeling nauseous? Your fever has not returned?" Thranduil reached out, his pale, slender hand reaching for her face and Tauriel reacted before she could think. Her body flinched away, her head falling clear of Thranduil's reach and the Elvenking paused, his face momentarily being covered with confusion, as if he himself had just realized what he'd been about to do and found the action odd. A moment later the wall of cool indifference was in place and his hands dropped to be placed behind his back. His manner calm once more Thranduil gave her a polite dip of his head.

"I will send for Elanor." He swiveled towards the door, "I expect you to follow her instruction without any hindrances." He opened the door but tilted his head so that his right eye met hers, "Save your energy for the training," his face shifted into one of mocking mirth, "I am no easy teacher." With that he swept from the room, his robes flowing out behind him and Tauriel kept her eyes on the now closed door.

Odd…

This was perhaps the first conversation she'd had with the King that had not escalated into an argument. They'd been civil to one another, if not _friendly _towards the end and the thought made her smile ever so slightly. It slipped from her lips when a knock sounded on the oak and she cleared her throat, straightening herself up.

"Come in," she called and Elanor pushed open the door. She eyed Tauriel, her blue eyes assessing her with that of a healer's gaze. She strode forward and stopped by the bedside, her eyes still trained on Tauriel's face.

"The King has informed me that he fears your fever has returned." She reached up and brushed the few strands of Tauriel's hair back, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. A noise of satisfaction sounded in the back of her throat as she removed it and reached for the herbs she'd brought in with her. "You're flushed, but it's not a fever." A slow smile touched her lips as she eyed Tauriel. "It would not be because you argued with the King yet again, would it?" She ventured and Tauriel couldn't help the slight flush that crept up her neck at the mention of the beautiful, but icy Elvenking.

"No," she cleared her throat once and steadied her nerves, "we did not." Tauriel glanced towards her dresser, where the gleaming swords sat and Elanor followed her gaze.

"Ah, I saw the King at the armory this morning. He was overseeing the forgery of the swords, I thought them a gift for Lord Elrond or even his son, the Prince, but," she crushed the herbs and sprinkled the powder they made into a glass of water, "I am happy to see that he forged them for you, Captain." Her words shocked Tauriel and she stared at the healer.

"He what?" Her abrupt question had one of Elanor's brows lifting in curiosity but she answered.

"This morning, he oversaw the forgery of the swords, making sure they took great care in their work. The craftsmanship is beautiful," Elanor turned her head, her eyes admiring the beautiful, but deadly steel.

"Yes," Tauriel agreed, her eyes resting on them as well, "they are." She whispered but blinked when Elanor offered her the glass of water. She took it from her and drank but the herbs were bitter and she winced, her face twisting. Elanor chuckled while crossing her arms over her chest.

"Ah, they are not that horrible." Elanor reached out and took the now empty glass from Tauriel.

"You are not the one who has to take them," Tauriel muttered while licking her lips. Elanor snorted softly and gathered up the herbs, placing them once more into her pouch that adorned her waist.

"Such stubbornness," she clucked her tongue, "It reminds me of another." She murmured underneath her breath and Tauriel tilted her head, her interest peeked.

"Who?" Tauriel's question made Elanor snort once more.

"Who else would cause me so much fuss?" She reached for Tauriel's arm and slowly began to change the bandage, revealing the wound underneath. It was still gruesome, but the puncture and skin surrounding it had began to slowly heal. Tauriel mulled over the Elves she knew and found that most would cause no more trouble than she.

"I can think of none," she stated and Elanor chuckled underneath her breath while applying more salve. This time it did not sting and Elanor seemed pleased but began to wrap the wound with fresh linen.

"The King of course, when he sustained his injury long ago I was there to tend him." Her fingers were gentle but firm as she finished wrapping the bandage and Tauriel stared at her.

"You tended the King?" Her tone was slightly shocked and Elanor eyed her.

"Yes, I might have been young but my teacher was talented and an expert in the skill of healing. She taught me everything I know." Elanor removed her hands and wiped them upon one of her cloths.

"I did not know that," Tauriel's eyes drifted to the door. "If I may, what injury did you tend?" She knew her curiosity concerning the King would be noted, but she wanted to know. He was known to only let a few healers tend to him, but in her lifetime she had never known him to take one until…

The death of his wife…

Elanor's gaze became clouded and she turned away slightly, her hands wringing around the towel.

"I do not think it is my place to speak so openly concerning the King, but," she paused, lifting her eyes to the wall, "it was a grievous injury but though I did my best to heal the one upon his flesh I could do little for the one inflicted upon his heart." Her voice had dropped and her gaze was far away, perhaps back to the day when she'd tended him. "My teacher, despite her skill, was unable to fully heal him, even with my aide. He now hides it, and," she picked up the bowl and ruined linen and her eyes turned to meet Tauriel's, "his heart as well. Perhaps," a knowing light entered her blue eyes, "that may change." Tauriel's eyes widened but before she could ask what Elanor had meant the healer turned, heading for the door. "I will return in the evening to change the linen and apply more salve. Make sure to rest while I am gone." She ordered and Tauriel could only nod her head in agreement before the female Elf was gone.

Her final words played about inside Tauriel's head. What had she meant? About Thranduil hiding his heart and that now he might not do so? She knew that of all the other healers, Thranduil had favored Elanor. Tauriel thought it was because of her adept skill but maybe…it was something more. The idea made her chest feel suddenly tight, her insides heavy. She exhaled an irritated sigh and shook her head. If Thranduil had feelings concerning Elanor it was not her place. He was the King and Elanor, despite her station, had come from a noble birth.

Yet…

She couldn't shake the gnawing that assaulted her stomach, and she knew it was not hunger. Another sigh left her lips and she lifted her eyes to where the Elven blades lay. Even though she had not held them she knew that they'd be weightless and perfectly balanced. She knew little of swordsmanship, for she preferred to fight with her daggers and bow, but Thranduil had been right. Using her daggers would put her at a disadvantage while her bow had been neatly cut in half by the Elvenking's own sword. How ironic she mused but she turned her head and looked out into the blue skies.

She'd have to have another made for her, or perhaps she'd try her hand at making one of her own. The process would be long and tedious but without one it felt as if a piece of her were missing. Her fingers trailed up to the pouch that still hung from her neck. Instead of the heart wrenching pain she only felt a dull throb but it was enough to make her eyes water and her throat close painfully. Taking in slow, deep breaths she calmed and instead focused on the stories Kili had told her, of how his face had looked when he'd told her that he hadn't been afraid.

_You make me feel alive…_

His words made another tear trail her cheek. Yes, he'd made her feel alive as well and without him she had found life meaningless, but now...her eyes returned to the swords and something blossomed within her chest.

Hope…

She had hope that there was life beyond this pain and perhaps without meaning to Thranduil had shown it to her. She just hoped in some way she could do the same for him.

VVVV

He was losing his temper…

Thranduil sat at the head of the long table, his eyes trained upon the Elf before him. Lord Daechir, an Elf from the southern villages stood before him. His hair, long and black, was swept from his hard and youthful face. Eyes, a shade lighter than the color of emeralds, stared steadily at him but inside the orbs Thranduil saw a keenness that betrayed the Elf's calm demeanor.

"What you are proposing is imprudent." Thranduil kept his voice calm, but he let his eyes portray the true meaning behind his words. Lord Daechir was not intimated and lifted his chin. The Elf had dressed in black, his shoulders and trim of his robes a deep purple with a silver belt placed around his lean waist. Thranduil had changed himself, standing in now his black and red robes. He found that the colors made the Elves uneasy, for they brought out the ice in his gaze and he inwardly noted that Lord Daechir had done the same.

"How so, my King?" Daechir's voice was calm, but held an authority that came from thousands of years of commanding and leading Elves. Thranduil inwardly bristled at the tone but kept his face impassive, his gaze chilling.

"Proposing that Captain Tauriel is the one sending information to the Orcs is ludicrous. Such an idea will not be considered, not even remotely." His tone was like steel and the rest of the Council sat in silence, their eyes trained on their laps. Daechir's brow twitched but to his credit he said nothing.

"And what if proof was to be shown concerning that she is the one giving aide to the Orcs?" Daechir pointed out and Thranduil slowly lifted a chillingly unconvinced brow.

"If such evidence were to be produced then I would have no choice but to consider it, but since there is none that does exist I will not contemplate it." He narrowed his eyes a fraction and kept his growing rage in check.

"What if there was?" Daechir whispered and Thranduil paused, contemplating the situation. It would do no good if he leapt from the chair and throttled the Elf for his impudence and it wouldn't do any good if he had the Elf banished. Lord Daechir was from a high ranking family and oversaw the protection of the border to the south. He had many Elves loyal to him, despite his cruelty with which he was known for. If he made a suggestion, it was contemplated and in most cases his opinion won out. If Daechir said Tauriel was the one providing information and he said that he had proof, there would be little Thranduil could do without causing a ruckus.

"Very well," he narrowed his eyes further, "what is your evidence?" His question made a gleam, bright and feral, enter Daechir's light green eyes.

"Her traitorous act concerning yourself, my lord. She openly defied your orders, openly drew her bow against you, her intent to shoot you if you did not obey and," the Elf paused to perhaps add to his dramatic words, "she fell in _love_ with a _Dwarf_." He said both words mockingly but Thranduil couldn't help the smug smile, perhaps more of a sneer that crossed his lips. The sight must have confused Daechir, for he frowned, but Thranduil only let a sigh of disappointment and boredom leave his lips.

"Is that all?" He inquired and casually reached for his wine, taking a slow sip of its contents while eyeing the dark haired Elf over the brim of the glass. Daechir, now obviously flustered at being so carelessly dismissed by the King, narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, that is all." He answered and Thranduil swallowed, taking his time to reply as he lowered the glass back to the table.

"What you say is true, Lord Daechir. Captain Tauriel did disobey my orders, did draw her bow against me and she did fall in love with a Dwarf." A sad, pitying smile touched his lips. "Yet I hardly think that is solid enough evidence to hold against her. The bow which she had drawn against me is splintered, by my own sword, and the Dwarf that she loved is now buried beneath the mountain. You see," his eyes sparked, "love is an emotion that can blind one's eyes, even to her King's orders. I have forgiven Captain Tauriel concerning such matters, as I suggest you do." His voice and tone held no argument, the threat of his wrath hanging in the air if Daechir did not comply, but it seemed as if the Elf was not finished.

"What of her loyalty? Surely if such a trivial emotion can turn an Elf against her King her loyalty means nothing?" His words caused a small stir amongst the Council but Thranduil kept his gaze calm and level.

"Captain Tauriel has served me for over six hundred years," his tone was dark and icy, seemingly to draw the warmth from the room and he saw out of the corner of his eye his subjects shudder but he did not care, "her loyalty to me, to this _Kingdom_, is beyond measure. It would take a great force indeed to have her shatter it. Love," he couldn't help how bitter the word tasted in his mouth, "would be such a thing." He tilted his head, "Have you ever loved another, Lord Daechir?" His voice dripped liquid fire as cold as ice and Daechir clamped his jaw.

"Yes, my King." He answered and Thranduil's gaze became cynical.

"Then you know of how Captain Tauriel must have felt at that moment." He leaned back in the chair and lifted his hand in a firm, dismissive wave. "I will hear nothing more concerning Captain Tauriel's loyalty, especially when she is now recovering from an injury she received while saving the life of another Elf who shared the same opinion as you, Lord Daechir." His biting remark made Daechir's face flush with anger before he could hide it behind a composed mask.

"Yes, sire, my deepest apologies." He murmured and placing his hand over his heart he bowed. Thranduil said nothing but with a flick of his first finger Daechir was dismissed. All eyes watched as the Elf turned and left the room. Once the doors were shut behind him there was a small lapse of silence before one of the Elves presented him with another edict concerning new trade with the reconstruction of the City of Dale. Thranduil overlooked the plans, found them agreeable and gave his consent. The hours dragged on until the most important matters had been tended to. Food had been brought and they'd shared a meal during that time but Thranduil noted Arahaelon's puzzled face throughout the entire time since Daechir's departure.

Finally when they'd disbanded Arahaelon walked with him in the halls. Thranduil again noted his troubled expression and sighed.

"What troubles you, Arahaelon?" He questioned and the wise Elf raised his eyes to Thranduil's.

"Lord Daechir, sire. I did not like what he implied about Captain Tauriel." Thranduil dipped his head in agreement.

"What concerns me is if his goal is to tarnish her reputation by holding the simple fact that she cared for a Dwarf against her, what means would he go to in order to achieve his goal?" His words made Arahaelon's brows draw together in a thoughtful, troubled frown. They paused as the hall forked and Thranduil turned to him. "Keep an eye on Lord Daechir and tell me of his daily activities." Arahaelon bowed his head.

"Yes, _Hir Vun_." He replied and Thranduil turned, heading in the opposite direction. He walked to his quarters, shutting himself behind the doors. The sun was now tipping behind the trees, a visit to Tauriel's quarters would—he paused, mulling over his thoughts.

So he wished to see her did he? Only because he wished to warn her about Lord Daechir and to strongly advise her against any rash actions that would cause others to doubt her and in doing so cause more problems for him to deal with.

The stars knew he had enough already…

He sighed and slipped from his heavy robes, bearing his skin to the fresh air. It felt wonderful and he closed his eyes, letting the wind slide across his flesh. Crossing to his wardrobe he donned a simple silver tunic and dark trousers. Pulling on his more practical knee length boots he departed, using his own personal tunnel. It had been many days since he'd been able to slip away into his gardens and he sought the refuge the trees and winding paths provided him.

The sky now blazed with the colors of sunset, bathing the garden in fire. It truly was breathtaking but he did not stay to admire the colors. He made his way farther into the winding paths, wishing to disappear for a few moments. He wandered, as did his mind and for once he did not think of the responsibilities that plagued him as King. His feet treaded upon the soft earth until he stopped before a massive tree. He paused, tilting his head to look up at the thick, ancient branches covered in leaves that were just now turning gold.

"Hello, _Taulë_." Thranduil murmured and the tree's massive branches swayed in the breeze as if the great mallorn were answering him. He crossed the grass covered clearing, reaching out and placing his hand upon the worn bark. He could feel the tree's life, strong and sure, pulse beneath his fingertips. The energy made his arm tingle and a soft breath left his lips.

He remembered when he'd ventured here with his wife, remembered watching her plant the little sapling and nurture it with great care and love until it had grown strong and sure. She was gone now, but the tree remained. She'd called the mallorn _Taulë, _and a great tree he was. As his fingertips slid over the bark, Lord Daechir's words echoed about inside his head about Tauriel threatening his life with her bow. He'd destroyed it with a sweep of his sword, leaving the red haired Elf without a bow and an Elf without a bow was a poor sight to behold, especially one as skilled as Tauriel.

Thranduil's lips parted and a soft melody filled the clearing. His voice was low and silky, the lilting tones whispering through the evening sky. _Taulë _swayed and his leaves rustled but Thranduil felt no resistance as the mallorn offered up one of its branches. Thranduil slipped his fingers around the strong, but nimble wood and bowing his head in deep respect for the tree he ended his lullaby. The mallorn returned to its former position, the branches now still. Reaching out Thranduil placed his hand against the bark and whispered a thank you, his eyes closing as he felt the warmth that seeped into him.

Removing his hand he turned and returned to the winding paths that would lead him back to his private quarters. Slipping inside he placed the branch upon a spare desk, his eyes admiring the wood. It would make a fine long bow, one that would rival any others. For a moment he dwelled on the fact of what he'd just done, of _why _he had done what he did. Lowering his form down into the chair that sat beside the desk, he took the branch into his capable hands, dimly recalling that the last time he'd done a task such as this would have been for Legolas. It did not matter, he remembered.

Slowly…

Carefully…

He began to carve…

VVVV

AUTHOR NOTE: Okay I know this chapter is a little short and not much happens but I'll make up for it in the next one! Thanks for all the reviews!

TRANSLATIONS:

_A'maelamin_: My Beloved

_Taulë: _Great Tree

_Hir Vun: _Beloved lord


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"Don't lower your guard when you strike," Thranduil ordered as he swiftly stepped clear of her lunge, coming in close and sliding past her defenses. She felt the tip of his blade along her ribs and winced but was more embarrassed and angry than hurt for Thranduil was an expert swordsman and would not cause harm to her.

He only patronized her with acts such as those…

It'd been three days since he'd last visited her in her rooms and after some convincing; Elanor had deemed her fit enough to start training. At first Thranduil had been skeptical, thinking her not strong enough but unknown to both Thranduil and Elanor during those three days Tauriel had forced herself to exercise, to strengthen her arm so that when she _did _start training she wouldn't be a trembling, weak mess.

"You leave yourself open when you strike," Thranduil pointed to her open area with his blade, his eyes shining bright with annoyance. Tauriel couldn't help but glare at him, for she knew that the Elvenking was an excellent swordsman, easily beating any of the Elves here and she knew that when he himself had decided to teach her how to wield twin swords that it would not be easy, yet she didn't expect him to be _this _hard on her. She had expected to learn the basics and then gradually progress but instead he had taught her the simple footwork, which they were now testing.

The morning breeze whispered through the small training circle and Tauriel blew a stray hair out of her face. She'd dressed in a simple green tunic with brown breeches and boots. Thranduil had done the same, wearing a silver tunic tucked into black breeches. The strings however, had come undone near the top while his hair, the front two pieces done back in a simple braid, had become disheveled. He looked strangely sensual, standing before her with no crown and no symbol of royalty upon his clothes.

But she knew better…

He did not need such things to be distinguished as a King. His bearing was enough, the regal tilt of his chin, the stiffness in his shoulders or the cool sweep of his gaze told her all she needed to know.

"When I step here," Thranduil's lilting voice interrupted her thoughts and he shifted, moving to the left but keeping his shoulders facing her, "move there, keep your feet apart but your arms in." He ordered and Tauriel did as he ordered. He watched her, tilting his head and studying her with eyes as cold and calculative as a hawk's.

Or a wolf's…

He lifted the tip of his single sword, the other still sheathed at his hip, and advanced towards her. She did the same, hefting both of her swords for Thranduil had insisted that she use both while he himself only used one. The though irked her, for it was another stab at her ignorance on how to wield the Elven blades. She was not an invalid, she could wield daggers and best any of the Elves in the Guard but swords were another matter. Tauriel was unaccustomed to the weight and reach of her arm, but slowly she was starting to learn.

Steel met steel as they fenced and for a moment it was if they were dancing, their bodies moving and bending with their blows, their arms whipping out as they struck but as soon as the dance had began it ended with Tauriel at the edge of Thranduil's sword. It was only a matter of seconds and the frustration at being so easily defeated ate at her.

They did this several times until she was exhausted, her body covered in sweat as her chest rose and fell with labored breaths. Her arm was on fire and she could barely lift the practice swords she'd been given, much less stand but she refused to look weak in front of him. Clenching her jaw once more she straightened, narrowing her eyes and lunging at him. Thranduil responded by simply stepping to the side, lashing out at her with his sword but as she lifted her own to block the strike her arm lost its strength. Her eyes widened, for she knew that she would not be able to deflect the deadly blow and Thranduil's did the same. Time seemed to slow and she shut her eyes, waiting for the pain but it did not come and she stumbled forward. Her foot caught a root and she pitched towards the ground but before she could make contact with the earth, a strong hand grasped her about her waist, pulling her back and against a warm and solid chest. Her breathing was still labored and her eyes were still wide from surprise but it was Thranduil's low voice next to her ear that nearly undid her.

"Lesson number one, Captain," he pulled away slightly and Tauriel steadied herself, "never attack in anger." His eyes caught the morning light and Tauriel swallowed, her cheeks flaming from both embarrassment and exercise.

"I'll take note of that," she replied dryly and stepped clear of him despite her shaking legs. Thranduil only gave her a scathing look but she ignored it, testing her arm instead.

"Does it pain you?" He asked, his tone suddenly holding concern but he made no move towards her, his eyes resting on the bandage. Tauriel opened her mouth to deny it but at the piercing look she received from the King she thought better of it.

"At times, but I am fine, my lord." She went to turn away from him but wobbled. Thranduil stepped forward, steadying her and she inwardly winced. She hated how weak she was, especially in front of him. A sigh left his lips and Thranduil glanced down at her.

"We've trained enough for today," he went to lead her back over towards the bench but Tauriel clamped her jaw.

"I thank you for your help, sire, but I am fine." She growled and pulled her arm free. Thranduil lifted a mocking brow, which she promptly ignored, and lifted her chin into the air. Thranduil's lips twitched at the corners, a hint of an amused smile, as he lowered his sword. The blade was deadly, and quite odd for an Elf. The blade was not curved, simply straight but still etched with beautiful designs that drew ones eye and held it.

It was a true masterpiece…

Much like its owner…

The thought made her jolt and she flicked her eyes skyward, hoping that Thranduil didn't take notice of it.

"So it seems," he stated, momentarily knocking her out of thoughts. His eyes ran over her still flushed face and having him standing there, looking the way he looked, with a hint of his skin exposed to her made her think of her dream and she cleared her throat but forced herself to turn away.

"Shall we continue?" She asked, feeling strength return to her limbs. Thranduil regarded her quietly for what felt like hours when perhaps it was only a few seconds but having those eyes, a blue that was a mix of light sapphire and silver, staring at her was unnerving. She ironically found that it was his gaze on her that sapped her strength more so than the training did.

"If you can handle the strain," he murmured and she nodded. He dipped his head slightly in acceptance but faster than Tauriel could comprehend Thranduil had already lifted his silver blade and was before her. She lifted the practice swords, wishing that it was her own Elven swords but not wishing to damage them due to her ignorance on how to use them she had left the blades on her dresser. Tauriel, her teeth clenched, blocked Thranduil's blow. The force of it sent tremors coursing up her arms, causing small flares of agony to erupt from her wound but she gritted her teeth and ignored it. Shifting her feet she let Thranduil's strength overpower her for a moment, whipping out from underneath him so that he would stumble forward.

Thranduil saw the move, but she watched as he let her slip away. Knowing that for the moment he was only toying with her angered her but his words about attacking in anger flashed inside her mind. She stilled her racing heart, keeping her head level as she watched him. He took a step forward, his eyes keen and focused. She lifted her swords, gripping them tightly and was prepared when Thranduil lunged.

_Parry…_

_Thrust…_

_Parry…_

It seemed to become an endless cycle but she held her own despite how her arms felt like lead. Finally, when Thranduil spun to remain clear of her left sword she saw her chance and swung with her right sword but she mentally swore when his blade came up, catching hers. The force knocked it from her hand, sending sparks flying but she whipped the other up but it was too late. He slid in close, lifting the blade between them and neatly dispatching her other sword. It now lay beside her and she stood before him, defenseless. His sword touched the place where her heart lay but she dimly felt the cold steel.

Her eyes were locked on his, for he'd come exceptionally close. His breathing was labored slightly, his eyes seemingly to dance with flames but Tauriel remained still. She could feel the slight point of his blade poking her flesh now but she didn't care.

Thranduil slowly lowered his sword but did not step away. His eyes roamed over her face, down her exposed throat, and over her short hair before settling on her lips. They parted with her labored breathing but she found that her lungs seemed to shrink, her lips quivering at the fire that suddenly sprung up inside her belly.

The space between them slowly slipped away but Tauriel found that she couldn't move. Her mind couldn't focus, her thoughts and emotions whirling inside her head. Then Thranduil blinked and he pulled away, turning his head to sheathe his sword. The metallic click of the pummel of his sword sliding home seemed to break the silence and Tauriel swallowed, rational thought returning to her.

Tauriel, her limbs now empty of adrenaline felt heavy and awkward. She cleared her throat, turning and stooping to retrieve her practice swords. Glancing away from him she tried to keep her body from shaking but it wasn't working.

Blast it all…

"Again?" She turned towards him but Thranduil's brows twitched into a slightly confused, yet curious frown.

"You have not been yourself, Captain." Thranduil noted as he took a step towards her, "Where is the Elf who always met my eyes with defiance instead of trembling nerves? Your body shakes and your face is flushed, is your injury affecting you so?" His eyes darkened as he halted in front of her and Tauriel racked her brain as she quickly thought of an answer.

"I am not nervous nor is my injury seriously affecting me, sire." She retorted, and she _wasn't _she just…she just wasn't at full strength yet. "I am afraid to admit that training certainly has drained me, but not sorely because of the spider's venom. My body is simply not in its prime condition." She gushed out, scrambling for anything that would make sense to _why _she was feeling the way she was. Thranduil gave a thoughtful but unconvinced, "_hmm"_ as his eyes still studied her.

"Perhaps," he murmured but there came a loud cry from overhead and both Elves lifted their eyes to the sky. A falcon flew overhead and Tauriel admired the bird. He was so strong and sure, flying freely through the skies. Thranduil too, openly admired the bird and Tauriel found that her eyes trained upon his face and would not leave. For a moment he did not look like the weary, cold King she knew, instead he seemed to resemble a stranger, one she did not know.

But wanted to…

Unexpectedly his eyes lowered to hers and they held but not wishing to cause another mishap she turned away.

"When are we to train again?" Her voice was slightly hoarse and she cleared it. Thranduil simply tilted his head back so that his eyes rested on the soaring falcon once more.

"On the morrow, if the weather permits it." He whispered and Tauriel frowned, confused. She lifted her eyes to the sky, searching for any signs that would hint at the upcoming storm but she found none.

"What do you mean, sire? I see nothing that indicates rain." She leveled her eyes at him but Thranduil's lips only quirked at the edges.

"You were never an observant Elf, were you Captain?" He smirked at her and seemed to be amused by his own joke. "No, you tend to be very bold indeed, and stubborn." He murmured and she flushed from anger, but could not deny the aspect, despite how it irritated her.

"Let us just say that I learned from the best," she murmured in a retort and Thranduil surprised her when he chuckled. It was such a pleasing sound, one that made her want to smile herself.

"Now, who would you be implying?" He asked coyly, his eyes shining brightly from amusement. Tauriel couldn't help but be baited into the conversation and her lips lifted into a smile but before she could reply a horn sounded in the distance.

Thranduil turned, his face twisting slightly with irritation but it was gone when an Elf came running into the practice ring. He was breathing hard and Tauriel dimly recognized him as one of the messengers.

"Ap-Apologies, my lord, but a carrier has arrived from Rivendell. He carries a message from Lord Elrond." The Elf gushed out and Tauriel stiffened, just as Thranduil did.

"Very well, I will see him in my study." Thranduil, his manner firm once more turned to glance at Tauriel. "Make sure that Elanor sees to your arm, Captain. After she does so, make your way to my study as well." He paused, his eyes lingering on her face, waiting for her response.

"Yes, my lord." She dipped her head in a formal bow and Thranduil turned, striding from the practice circle. Tauriel watched as his imposing figure left, the Elf who had given him the message trailing after him on his heels. Sighing she turned and crossed to the rack that held the practice swords. Placing them into the scabbards she winced at the soreness of her arm.

Slowly she stretched it, rolling her shoulder while lifting and lowering her arm. She could feel the muscles strain and sweat beaded her bow. Wiping it away she turned, her intention to leave the practice circle, when her eyes caught a pair of Elves, quite young even for their ancient race, practicing at the archery.

She paused, studying them from a distance. One Elf, her hair a honeysuckle blonde with an angular face shot with grace while the other, perhaps her brother by how similar they looked, did not. He clumsily unleashed the arrow, missing the target. Tauriel watched, observing how his sister tried to teach him but she did not see how he gripped the bow. Striding over she caught how the Elves straightened up, watching her with caution.

"Hello, I am Tauriel." She gave them a small smile and the girl quickly bowed her head, elbowing her brother to do the same. Tauriel waved her hand, giving out a small derisive snort. "That is not necessary," she stooped down slightly, reaching out and lightly touching the bow the boy carried. "What are your names?" She asked, lifting her eyes to the boy's hazel ones.

"Callon, son of Landir, Captain." The boy answered and Tauriel's smile widened. She recognized the name. Landir was a respected Elf stationed at one of their southern posts.

"A very fetching name for an Elf," she turned her eyes upon his sister.

"Ellavorn, daughter of Landir," she replied with a murmur, looking down in embarrassment. They were quite young, younger than Tauriel had previously guessed.

"They are both lovely," she angled her head back towards the boy, Callon. "I saw that Ellavorn was trying to teach you how to shoot straight, would you mind if I offered aide?" She inquired and Callon looked to his sister who was staring at Tauriel with wide eyes.

"Thank you for the offer, Captain, but I do not think it would—"

"Oh nonsense," Tauriel easily slipped in, cutting her off with another wave of her hand, "It'll be my pleasure. Now," she turned Callon to face the target, making him stand beside her. "Place your hands like you usually would." Callon did as she asked and she nodded her head. "Your stance is good, but this hand," she reached out and gently placed hers over his, "needs to grip the bow here," she slid it farther down, "Now, fire at the target." She removed her hand and Callon's brows drew together in concentration and after he released a small breath he let his arrow fly. The tip embedded itself within the wood and the boy blinked, shocked, before his lips spread in a wide grin.

"I hit it!" He cried with glee and Tauriel chuckled. "Thank you, Captain." He bowed his head in respect but Tauriel just shook her own, clapping him once on the shoulder.

"It was my pleasure but you should thank your sister, she has done a fine job training you." Tauriel looked to Ellavorn who was blushing slightly from embarrassment.

"Thank you Captain Tauriel," she replied and Tauriel nodded.

"Farewell," she turned, prepared to leave when she caught a figure watching her. It was an Elf, one she did not recognize. He had long dark hair, the color black with eyes a piercing green. The gaze was unsettling and though he was across the training field she could feel them on her. She frowned, puzzled. The Elf continued to stare at her and she returned the gaze, noting his attire.

He did not dress like the other Elves and his bearing was certainly not like the other Elves. She cast him another cautious look, making a note to ask about him later, before quietly slipping out. As she made her way back to the halls, her intention to seek out Elanor, she heard footsteps. They were coming from behind her and her muscles tightened and coiled.

She was being followed…

Carefully keeping herself calm and collected she kept walking, twisting and bending through the halls but the steps remained persistently behind her. She set her jaw, irritation whelming up inside her. _Why _was she being followed? Did someone wish to speak with her? If so then they would have already done so, so if they didn't wish to speak with her then did they just wish to follow her? But follow her where? She could still hear the steps behind her and she straightened up, noting that despite how her arm still ached slightly she could easily defend herself if need be.

If it came to that anyway…

A figure came into view, pausing from surprise but Tauriel now knew who had been following her. The Elf with the black hair stood before her, his face hard and unforgiving. His face was youthful, betraying nothing, but it was his eyes that did. They shined with a light that showed beyond the years of youth and Tauriel felt a coldness settle in her belly.

"Who are you? Why are you following me?" She demanded, keeping her voice polite but with a bite to it that implied her irritation. The Elf's brows lifted to coldly mock her. Suddenly she felt the air drop, her skin prickling and his gaze suddenly held a different emotion.

Hate…

Yet a moment later it was concealed beneath a veil of indifference and she blinked but then the Elf spoke.

"My name, Elfling, is Lord Daechir, and I was not following you." He smoothly stated and Tauriel, though keeping her outward appearance unaffected, inwardly cursed.

Lord Daechir…

In her years of service she had heard of him, but had never had the privilege of seeing or speaking with him. He was well known, well liked and his opinion was one of high regard. She bit the inside of her cheek, momentarily cursing her foolishness.

"I am entitled to an apology, Captain Tauriel." His tone was cold, a threat hidden in the words and Tauriel's spine straightened. So he knew who she was but of course he would know who she was.

"I apologize, my lord." She lowered her eyes and lowered her head slightly but a moment later she raised her eyes to his, "I sincerely thought you were following me, though I do not see why you would." She could see her words irked him, for she _knew _he'd been following her. There was nothing on this side of the palace that would interest an Elf of his station, in fact the only Elves that wandered here were scholars, seeking the many scrolls and parchments stored away within the many rooms that filled the halls.

"Perhaps I was," he murmured and his answer made her gaze at him with caution, "After all, I do not trust an Elf who would betray her King." His words made her blood boil and her jaw clenched. He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming bright.

"I never betrayed my King." Tauriel's voice was firm but she could tell that the Elf before her was not convinced. A sound of disapproval escaped Lord Daechir's throat and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Then pray tell me as to how drawing your bow against him is not considered an act of betrayal. If I had been King—"

"But you are not King, my lord. Thranduil is." Tauriel interjected and she lifted her chin higher, "Would you question your King's decision?" She kept her eyes level with his but the Elf only smirked, his eyes roaming over her.

"Who is it to say that you have not bewitched him?" Daechir's voice dropped to a low murmur and Tauriel's eyes widened when he took another step closer, shrinking the distance between them, "Despite your station and your heritage, you are quite captivating." He reached up, his fingers lightly toying with the ends of her hair. "Such beautiful hair, like fire, while your eyes," he took another step closer and Tauriel reared back, her body trembling with rage and disgust, "are truly mesmerizing," he smirked, "especially when they are lit with rage."

"Do not touch me," she growled and a low, eerie chuckle left Daechir's lips.

"And what if I did? What would you do, She-Elf?" His mocking form of address made her heart tighten in her chest and her hands instinctively went for the daggers that usually adorned her waist but her fingers closed over air. Daechir must have seen the move and his lips spread wide in a sneer. "You would draw steel against me?" He mused and tilted his head, his black hair falling over his broad shoulder. "I would not recommend it." He murmured and Tauriel clamped her jaw.

"Is this why you sought me out?" She demanded but Daechir's eyes gleamed with cold mirth.

"No, not particularly, but my reasons are my own." His eyes flicked past her to something behind her. "Just know that I will be watching you, Captain Tauriel." He nearly spit her name as he turned and strode back the way he had come. Before Tauriel could chase after him a curious voice sounded behind her.

"Captain?" Tauriel turned and found Arahaelon standing here, a bundle of scrolls in his arms. His face was somber but his eyes searched her face. His brows drew together and he halted beside her. "What is wrong?" He turned his head, his eyes following after Daechir's retreating form. "Did Lord Daechir speak with you?" He inquired, his tone suddenly serious. Tauriel took note of it but answered honestly.

"Yes, he did." She replied and Arahaelon's eyes came back to hers.

"What did he say?" Tauriel paused, watching Arahaelon's face carefully. He usually did not concern himself with matters such as these, always retreating to the scrolls and parchments that needed to be constantly maintained or translated or dealing with political matters that concerned the Kingdom. Why was he so interested in her welfare?

"Nothing of interest," Tauriel knew that was not the true truth of the matter, but it was of little consequence. Arahaelon seemed to sense that she was not telling the full truth but did not press her.

"I see," he shifted the scrolls in his arms, "Why are you here?" He asked, looking at her with care. Tauriel took a moment to reply, searching for an excuse that would sound appropriate.

"I wanted to stretch my legs before seeing the healer, Elanor. Do you know where I might find her?" Tauriel hoped her question would distract him and though he frowned slightly he answered her.

"She is in the gardens, gathering herbs and other such things." He provided and Tauriel dipped her head in a nod, smiling at him.

"Thank you, Arahaelon." With that she turned and quickly left, refusing to look behind her. Sure enough, Elanor was in the gardens, gathering herbs. After some scolding from overworking herself, Elanor tended to Tauriel, making note of how her wound had healed considerably. Tauriel listened and talked with her, but she found that her mind kept playing back to what had happened with Lord Daechir.

What had he meant that she had bewitched the King?

Was _that _what the Elves thought of her?

But that was nonsense, no one would be bewitched by her…

Except Kili…

The thought saddened her but at the same time she couldn't help but feel the small spark of hope enter her chest. Perhaps in some way she _was _helping the King, though she knew not in _that _particular way.

Was she?

VVVV

Thranduil was tired…

Not physically, but mentally…

After hearing the messenger inform him that Lord Elrond would be arriving within the evening he had ordered the appropriate Elves to arrange a small celebration to welcome Lord Elrond into his home. He knew why the Elf was arriving. It was to honor the fallen in the way that only Elves knew how to.

In the way all races knew how to…

His frame shuddered as a sigh left his lips, his fingers kneading the corners of his temples as he overlooked the list of lords that would arrive tomorrow morning to attend the memorial. They would arrive in the morning, rest throughout the afternoon but the following evening would be a celebration, leading to the memorial and afterwards they would celebrate for three more days. It would be a long process but he knew it was necessary. It gave the Elves a chance to heal and he knew that a great deal needed that chance.

A light rap sounded on his door and without lifting his eyes from the list called for them to enter. The door was pushed open and Thranduil lifted his eyes to see Arahaelon standing there. His face looked worn, his eyes tired but there was something about the set of his mouth that gave way to his unease.

"What is it?" Thranduil questioned and Arahaelon placed the scrolls that Thranduil had asked for earlier upon the small table he stood at.

"These are the scrolls you asked for, sire." He answered but Thranduil remained looking at the ancient Elf.

"That is not what I meant. Something troubles you," he set the piece of parchment down, eyeing him critically. "Does it concern Lord Daechir?" He ventured and by how Arahaelon's spine stiffened he knew that he'd been correct. "What did he do?" He waited patiently for Arahaelon to answer and after a moment he did.

"I believe he threatened Captain Tauriel's life." His words made Thranduil's chest tighten in rage but his voice was calm and even when he spoke.

"How so?" He questioned. Arahaelon's brows drew together in a perturbed frown.

"I myself am not sure, for the Captain did not tell me how but—"

"Tauriel did not tell you?" Thranduil cut in and Arahaelon dipped his head in a nod.

"She said that they spoke, but of nothing that held interest. I believe that she may have lied." He offered and Thranduil pursed his lips, his eyes flicking to the far window. It was not overly surprising that Tauriel would do such a thing but it still irked him.

"Very well," he returned his attention back to Arahaelon. "Have you seen to the preparations?" He questioned and Arahaelon bobbed his head.

"Yes, my lord. They have been taken care of." Thranduil gave a sound of acknowledgement before continuing.

"Any word from Faerveren?" Arahaelon shook his head no and Thranduil's brows twitched into a slight frown but he had other matters to attend to. A horn sounded in the distance and he inwardly sighed. "That would be Lord Elrond," he murmured and Arahaelon nodded in agreement. Silently Thranduil strode from his study, Arahaelon in tow. Making their way to the greeting hall Thranduil halted, waiting patiently at the end of the long visitors that had gathered to greet the Elven Lord of Rivendell. The Elf came striding in, his dark hair held back by a simple crown of gold while his robes were a mix of rich brown and green. A few Elves, one he recognized as Lindir, accompanied him.

As he entered the hall farther Thranduil noted that a number of the guard had arrived, Tauriel at their head. She had changed into a more sophisticated tunic, her hair freshly washed and slightly damp. Her face was lit with a warm light as she smiled at Elrond, bowing her head respectfully. Lord Elrond returned the warm smile, touching her lightly on the shoulder before moving on.

Thranduil remained stiff, his face impassive as Elrond approached him. The Elf was easily as old as he and was one of the few who understood Thranduil's iciness and was for the most part unbothered by it. That's why he made no move to smile or be overly polite. Elrond understood and as he stopped before Thranduil, the Elvenking merely dipped his head politely, Lord Elrond doing the same.

"_Vedui', _Lord Elrond of Rivendell." Thranduil let his face soften a fraction, "It has been too long." He finished and Elrond nodded in return.

"Yes, King Thranduil, far too long even for us." He looked about. "Your home is as captivating as I remember." Thranduil smiled slightly at the compliment.

"You and your company should rest, Lord Elrond. I shall have you escorted to your quarters. Shall we speak after you have taken the appropriate time to recover?" He waited for Lord Elrond's answer.

"Yes, thank you." Thranduil tilted his head, his eyes falling to one of the Elves stationed by the doors.

"See to it that they are comfortable." He ordered and the Elf bowed before straightening and waiting for Lord Elrond to follow. Lord Elrond turned, the other Elves following after him and left the hall. At their departure the Elves that had gathered to great Lord Elrond slowly began to disperse but Thranduil noted Tauriel's guarded face. Arahaelon tilted his head, eyeing Thranduil as if to prove a point but Thranduil ignored him.

"Captain," At his commanding tone Tauriel turned towards him. She crossed the room to him, lowering her head in respect.

"My lord," she straightened, looking at him with curiosity. "I apologize for not immediately coming to your study but I—"

"It does not matter," he narrowed his eyes at her, "Follow me." He turned, knowing that she would follow him but paused to look at Arahaelon. "Make sure the preparations are set for tonight." Arahaelon bowed in acknowledgement and Thranduil strode from the hall, Tauriel following quietly behind him. They did not speak until they were in his study and as the door closed behind her he slowly turned, fixing her with a cool gaze. Tauriel must have recognized the look, for she blinked in surprise.

"Have I done something to offend you, my lord?" She asked and Thranduil narrowed his eyes at her.

"Yes, you have." He took a step towards her and he watched her stiffen. "What did Lord Daechir want with you?" He questioned and Tauriel's eyes widened in shock.

"It was nothing that you should concern yourself with, my lord." Her reply only enraged him further.

"I asked you a question, Captain, I suggest you answer honestly when I do." His voice had dropped to a low whisper and Tauriel shifted, her hands clenching and unclenching. After a moment he saw her break underneath his scrutinizing gaze.

"Lord Daechir does not think highly of me," Tauriel shifted once more and Thranduil noted how she seemed to be avoiding something.

"Speak, before I lose my patience." Thranduil ordered and Tauriel's eyes snapped to his, flashing flames and her face twisted slightly with annoyance.

"As you wish," she hissed out and straightened, lifting her chin into the air, "Lord Daechir thinks that I have betrayed you but," she paused for a moment, her eyes flicking away before coming back to his, "that you cannot see it because I have _bewitched _you, sire." She mumbled and Thranduil blinked at her, astounded.

Bewitched?

Preposterous…

"You were wrong," Thranduil murmured, "that _was _something that I needed to concern myself with." He turned away from her, narrowing his eyes as he thought. "To have someone think such a thing, absurd," he murmured and Tauriel cleared her throat, drawing his eyes back to her face. He found that it was covered with anger and…

Hurt?

"I apologize, my lord, that you would have such things thought about you, especially where they concern me. Who am I but your lowly Captain of the Guard? A Silvan Elf?" She was shaking and he frowned, turning to face her. "You are right, it is absurd." She whispered and ducked her head so that he could not see her eyes.

"Captain?" He went to take a step towards her but she retreated, lifting her head so that she looked him in the eye.

"Is this why you wished to speak with me, my lord?" Her curt question caught him off guard but at her tone, so defiant and angry when _he _had been the one who had been concerned about _her _made his chest swell with anger.

"Yes, when my Captain lies to one of my advisors I deem it with worthy enough to have the matter taken care of." He growled and Tauriel glared at him.

"I did not—"

"Oh yes, I am afraid you did." He straightened his spine, looking down at her, "How do you expect me to trust you when you do things such as these?" He whispered and Tauriel clamped her jaw.

"Is that matter taken care of, my lord?" She asked, her voice wavering and Thranduil blinked before turning his back to her.

"Yes, leave me." He heard her retreat, heard the door open and grimaced when the door closed behind her.

Foolish Elf…

That's what she was…

What did she expect him to do? How did she expect him to react? If Lord Daechir thought that Tauriel was more than the Captain of the Guard to him then he would surely make his opinion known. The other lords would have no choice but to consider the matter seriously and then what? The whole situation would become bothersome and complicated and Tauriel would be looked down upon. The small bit of trust she had earned back would be lost to her and she would be cast down and this time Thranduil would not be able to save her.

Save her?

Is that what he wanted to do?

He winced and ran his hand over his face. Why couldn't things be simpler? He sighed and pushing the thought of Tauriel from his head, lowered his frame down behind his desk. He had much to do before this evening's celebration.

Hours later Thranduil now stood in the celebration hall. He was dressed in fine silver, his fair freshly washed with a more intricate crown of silver atop his brow. He stood at the head of the hall, on a raised platform and noted how empty he suddenly felt. There was music, the stars were out, though they were hid slightly by the canopy of branches above him, and laughter surrounded him but there was something missing. Legolas no longer stood beside him and Arahaelon was off somewhere, conversing with other Elves of his station. Thranduil stood alone and he found that he usually preferred it that way, but not tonight.

The music swelled and Elves chose partners to begin dancing. His sharp eyes found Lord Daechir, who stood at the opposite end of the hall. He made no move to hide where his eyes rested and neither did Daechir. They looked at one another and Thranduil knew that more conflict was going to transpire between himself and the black haired Elf.

"King Thranduil?" Thranduil turned his head to find that Lord Elrond had halted beside him.

"Ah, Lord Elrond, forgive me, I was occupied." He offered up a polite hint of a smile and Elrond returned it.

"You must have much that weighs on your mind," he turned to face the crowd, his eyes roaming over the Elves before them. "It is pleasing, to see such merriment after dark times." His voice was but a murmur but Thranduil heard him.

"Yes, it is." He agreed and couldn't help but wish that his son stood beside him.

"We did not have time beforehand to discuss the true reason I have arrived here, yet I do not wish to intrude upon the festivities." Lord Elrond turned to face him. "On the morrow, perhaps?" He asked and Thranduil dipped his head in agreement.

"Yes, on the morrow would—" He noticed a stir that settled over the crowd and he paused, turning his eyes upon the figure that would cause such a disturbance.

Then he saw her…

Tauriel…

She was garbed in a gown the color of the forest. It was a simple dress, the neckline curving to expose her collarbone and was without sleeves, exposing her muscular but creamy arms. The bandage still adorned her injured arm but Thranduil hardly noticed it. Her hair remained loose about her shoulders but he noticed the small, white flowers that had been woven into the fiery strands. The gown draped off of her like silk, exposing curves he had only glimpsed through a nightgown. He had forgotten that she was a maiden, for seeing her in her warrior garb had given him a false sense of not seeing her as a woman but just as another Elf underneath his command.

Now…

He wasn't so sure…

VVVV

Why were they staring at her? She'd throttle Elanor for convincing her to go in a dress. The thing left her uncomfortable, as if she were exposed. She shifted but kept her expression calm as she strode to the refreshment table. A glass of wine would steady her nerves and hopefully she'd be able to slip away before anyone noticed her.

Yet that didn't seem to be the case…

_Everyone _seemed to be noticing her and she could feel their eyes on her. She wished that Legolas or Faerveren were here. They'd come to stand beside her, to talk with her and not leave her to feel so alone and vulnerable. She poured herself a glass of wine, raising it to her lips and taking a sip when she really wanted to drain the goblet.

"Nerves?" Tauriel glanced over the rim of the goblet to an Elf, his name escaping her, standing before her. She lowered the glass slowly, keeping her face composed.

"Perhaps," she answered and the Elf smiled at her. His hair was shorter, reaching his shoulders and was a dark brown. His eyes were a dark blue, tinged with grey but he had a pleasing smile. He was dressed in dark purple robes that were outlined with silver. She knew he was not a guard, nor was he a lord.

"My name is Morndir," he reached out and before Tauriel could react had grasped her free hand, "Forgive me if I seem bold, but," he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it softly, "you are radiant, Captain Tauriel." He murmured and Tauriel blinked. With a light tug she removed her hand and fixed him with a critical glare.

"You are too bold, Morndir," Tauriel replied but the Elf simply smiled, his dark blue eyes twinkling.

"Yes, some say that I am." He shifted so that he stood beside her, his shoulder brushing her own. "If I may ask, how fares your injury?" He reached up, lightly running his finger over the edge of the bandage. Tauriel narrowed her eyes at him, pulling back slightly.

"It is better," she raised the wine to her lips, aware that the music had changed.

"I am pleased to hear such news," he whispered, his voice low and Tauriel glanced at him.

"You have told me your name, but nothing else and yet it seems that you know much about me." At her words Morndir grinned and chuckled.

"You sound accusing, Captain," he murmured, swiveling to face her. She flicked her eyes up to his.

"Should I be?" She questioned but Morndir only laughed, his face oddly sweet despite the gleam in his eyes.

"Have a dance with me, Captain?" He whispered while offering her his hand. Tauriel glanced at it and then slowly her eyes traveled up his arm to his face. "Please?" His eyes gleamed and she bit the inside of her cheek. Then she felt eyes on her. She frowned, turning her head but she froze when she realized who was looking at her.

Thranduil…

His icy eyes froze her in place, made her heart stop but then she remembered their conversation earlier. She turned her head, ignoring him, and smiled at Morndir.

Why not?

She slowly set her glass upon the table, reaching up and placing her hand in his. Morndir grinned, his lips spreading slowly to form a smile that she could not place. He smoothly led her out to the dance floor, easily turning her about so that his hand rested easily at her hip while the other held hers. They began to move, their bodies matching the notes but she found that her heart would not calm inside her chest.

She could still feel him…

Feel his eyes on her…

"You are a lovely dancer, Captain." Morndir murmured as he guided them about the hall. Tauriel gave him a polite smile, ignoring how her nerves seemed to tremble.

"Thank you," she replied and blinked when he stepped closer, his grip on her hip tightening.

"You smell like the forest," he murmured and she stiffened, her eyes narrowing.

"You overstep, Morndir." She warned but the Elf only grinned, his eyes shining.

"I only wish to learn more about you," he smoothly stepped away, twirling her before bringing her back in. She grunted, regretting that she'd chosen to dance with him.

"By saying that I smell of the forest?" She questioned and his lips twitched into a mischievous smile.

"I cannot help myself," he whispered while turning, stepping in close to brush his body against hers. Tauriel clamped her jaw and she stepped away, prepared to lash out him when suddenly a figure was beside her.

Thranduil…

The Elvenking seemed to be surrounded in ice and the exposed skin on Tauriel's arms prickled. He stood beside her, his eyes looking straight at Morndir and the dark haired Elf blinked, surprised at the cold and seething look Thranduil was giving him.

"Apologies, but I must speak with Captain Tauriel." His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument and Morndir quickly bowed, releasing her hand.

"Of course, my lord." He glanced once at Tauriel, his eyes glittering with a cold light before smiling once at Thranduil and making his leave. Thranduil watched him go before his eyes came to rest on hers.

"Captain," he tilted his head, gesturing for her to follow him. She did without complaint as he crossed the hall to stand on the sides. He poured himself a glass of wine, offering her up her old one that she had left on the table. She took it from him, careful to keep her fingers from brushing his. He said nothing, raising the wine to his lips but she noticed how he did not hide how much he swallowed. She knew him to be an avid wine drinker and the King was well known for his incapability to become drunk.

"What is it that you wished to speak with me about, sire?" Tauriel asked, avoiding looking at him. He'd dressed all in silver and the torchlight shined down upon him, causing little ripples of light to shimmer off of him.

"Were you not in need of rescuing, Captain?" He asked coyly, his smile patronizing and Tauriel's brows tightened.

"I was perfectly fine, my lord." Tauriel retorted but Thranduil's eyes gleamed with an unconvinced light.

"You are far too naïve," he murmured as he took another drink from his wine glass. Tauriel's spine straightened and she resisted the urge to growl.

"How so?" She questioned, her voice slightly terse but Thranduil merely grinned at her, amused at something only he knew.

"To wear a gown such as that and not expect to be groveled over." He drank once more from his goblet and Tauriel stared at him.

Insufferable oaf!

"I believe Morndir was not _groveling _over me, nor are any of the other Elves." Tauriel growled but Thranduil only lifted one smooth brow at her. He stepped close, dipping his head to whisper in her ear.

"Look again, dear Captain, you are wrong." He tilted his head, his eyes shooting to the crowd and Tauriel followed his gaze. The Elvenking was not wrong. Sure enough, Tauriel caught how none of the Elves would meet her eyes even after looking quickly away. She frowned, confused.

"Why would they?" She turned her head and Thranduil gave a soft, derisive snort as he raised the wine to his lips.

"Because of how you look tonight," he whispered as he lowered the glass, his eyes shining as he looked her up and down. Her body suddenly tensed, her muscles coiling tightly as heat engulfed her face.

"Do I look foolish? Is that why they stare?" She knew that she was not like most female Elves who usually took to the art of healing or some form of nurturing while Tauriel had chosen to become a warrior instead. Her choice had left her with scars, had left her with a lean, toned body while the other maidens had fair, untarnished skin and soft, subtle bodies. She inwardly winced, regret washing over her but Thranduil chuckled softly.

"No, it is because you are beautiful tonight. They are the fools for openly staring," his eyes flicked about the room and Tauriel stared at his face, shocked.

Had he…

Had he just called her _beautiful?_

His eyes returned to her face, holding her own and she couldn't help the words that slipped from her lips.

"You think I'm beautiful, sire?" She asked, her voice wavering and Thranduil's brows knit together into a frown.

"Of course, did I not just say so?" He replied and she blinked. Her heart stopped, then accelerated so hard and fast that for a moment she couldn't breathe properly. Not being able to hold his gaze she looked to the wine that she still held in her fingers.

Was he drunk?

"I think that you may have took too much wine tonight, my lord." Tauriel whispered and Thranduil gave another derisive snort.

"Nonsense, I am perfectly coherent. It would take a considerable amount of wine to intoxicate me." He growled and Tauriel raised her eyes from her wine glass.

"I'll remember that, my lord." She answered and silence engulfed them for a few moments. Tauriel noted how it was suddenly painful, as if he wanted to say something to her but could not find the words. She shifted, not wishing to remain beside him but her feet would not cooperate. So instead she drank the wine, liking how it dulled her senses for a few moments.

"The matter I wished to discuss with you," Thranduil began and Tauriel turned her face towards his, "is about our discussion earlier." Her body went taut and she looked away, expecting harsh words but the ones he uttered took the air from her lungs. "I apologize," he murmured and she slowly turned back to face him, "I did not wish to make you feel the way you did." Tauriel swallowed and looked down, a small smile threatening to spread across her lips.

"Thank you, sire," she lifted her face to his, "I am partly to blame as well. I may have…overreacted." She offered and Thranduil's face softened, as if he had been holding a tense breath. Just then the music changed, the lights dimming slightly and Thranduil turned his head, watching the Elves as they played the final song for the night. Tauriel watched as Thranduil set his glass down, his eyes holding hers as he lifted his hand.

"Dance with me," he murmured and though it was not worded as a question, Tauriel thought she could hear the hesitant notes of one. She didn't let herself think and she placed her glass upon the table before slipping her hand into his.

His hand was surprisingly warm, but smooth, yet she could feel the strength in it, in _him _as he guided her out onto the dance floor. The notes were lilting, the sounds intoxicating as he brought her to him. His other hand slid to the small of her back, taking her breath with the simple movement. They paused, waiting for the other partners to start and in that moment she let the starlight depths that seemed to be his eyes pull her in till she was lost to everything else but the Elf that moved with her, matching his body to hers as they flowed together like water.

Their bodies did not brush, the only contact they shared being that of their hands but that was all that was needed it seem to rob her of her senses. She could feel the heat of his flesh, could feel the muscles beneath his shoulder as he took the lead.

She didn't mind…

Seconds…

Minutes…

Time faded and though a voice whispered in the back of her head to be careful, to watch where she treaded she didn't care. She let herself be swept away, let her mind go blessedly blank as her body instinctively gave and obeyed Thranduil's subtle commands. As the notes reached their final peak something changed in Thranduil's piercing gaze.

It grew heated…

Fiery…

The sight made her stomach jump just as he spun her, his hand still on her hip to bring her in close and against him. The sensation of his body pressing against hers made her gasp but it was soon lost to her as he dipped her. She clung to his shoulders and as the notes faded, he slowly brought her up but did not step away. Her breathing was shallow but Thranduil's was not. He was calm and collected and Tauriel frantically tried to get her breathing back under control.

"Thank you for the dance, my lord." Tauriel whispered, aware that everyone was watching them. She bowed her head, not daring to look up but she could still feel his eyes on her. Finally she couldn't stand it any longer and she looked up and when she did her eyes collided with his and what she saw made her stomach melt.

Hunger…

Thranduil did not reply and he strode past her, his aura suddenly so cold that she flinched but watched as he left the hall. It was only after a low murmur had started did she realize that she was still standing there in the middle of the dance floor. Lifting her chin into the air she schooled her features and crossed to a far corner, resigning herself to just smiling and making polite conversation.

Despite how her heart was aching…

VVVV

"Were you able get anything out of her?" The voice was cold, calculative, but Morndir just sighed, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Be patient, I just met her." Morndir replied while flicking his eyes over to the red haired Elf as she made her departure. Everyone had witnessed her dance with the King and though the other Elves may not have noticed the tension between the two, _he _certainly had and so had the Elf who stood beside him.

"We don't have time for patience. _He _will want to have her out of the way, and soon." The voice snapped but Morndir sighed.

"I understand, but really, how is she so important?" Morndir asked as his eyes followed her.

"That is none of your concern," he growled and Morndir lifted his brows.

"Now, now, _Ada _I was just simply asking." Morndir retorted but the Elf only glared at him.

"Do not utter such a thing again or I will have you banished, understood?" He hissed and though Morndir's smile was mocking he couldn't help the cold fingers that squeezed his heart.

"Understood." He answered and watched as the Elf departed, leaving him alone in the shadows.

No matter…

He would accomplish his task and then perhaps he would be recognized. A soft sigh left his lips. It was too bad though, he found that he liked the Captain's fiery spirit. It was a shame, considering what he'd been tasked to do. It wouldn't do though to get attached to her.

After all…

He supposed to kill her…

TRANSLATIONS:

_Vedui': _Greetings

_Ada: _Father

AUTHOR NOTE: Sorry for the long wait! Hope you all like the new chapter! Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

He was late…

Thranduil was _never _late…

Tauriel bit her lip, tapping her booted foot. Was he angry with her because of last night? What had she done? A terse sigh left her lips and she ran a hand through her hair.

She was nervous…

She didn't get nervous…

She shifted, taking in a sharp breath of the morning air. It smelled like rain and Tauriel tipped her head back, taking in the sky overhead. It was cloudy and she inwardly smirked. Perhaps it would rain, but not for a few hours at least. She stood in the practice circle and it was abandoned but for a few Elves that practiced their archery. She peered about, her feet shifting once more. Unable to stand still she crossed to the rack, drawing the practice swords. Her arms were becoming accustomed to the weight and she pivoted back to face the dummy.

It wouldn't hurt to warm up…

With that she lunged, blocking and parrying imaginary blows while inflicting some of her own. She was so lost in battling her imaginary opponent that she didn't realize she'd gathered an audience.

"You fight well, for a beginner." Tauriel jolted at the voice, whirling around to face Morndir. He was dressed in black trousers with a simple tunic of dark blue. His hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail but his lips spread wide in a cunning grin. Tauriel lifted her chin, her hands tightening on the pummel of her swords.

"Should I take that as another compliment?" She replied tersely and Morndir feigned being hurt, crinkling his brows and dramatically acting as if she'd just run him through.

"Such coldness, and so early in the morning." He took a step towards her, lifting his face to the darkening sky. "It looks as if it's going to rain." He commented and Tauriel gave a grunt of acknowledgement as she went back to the dummy.

"Yes, it looks like that way." She replied, her tone cold, and Morndir glanced at her.

"Are you teaching yourself the art of the blade?" He asked, lifting his brows in curiosity. Tauriel shot him a look but set her jaw.

"You are meddlesome," she pivoted, prepared to leave, but Morndir reached out, stopping her with a light touch to her arm.

"No, I apologize, Captain, I just wished to know why you were alone. That's all." He gushed out and Tauriel looked him over. He seemed earnest enough and she slowly turned back to face him.

"Why would you concern yourself with such a matter?" Her wariness of him must have been obvious and he gave her a lopsided smile.

"Do you wish for me to answer honestly?" He leaned against the dummy, crossing his arms over his chest and Tauriel tilted her head.

"That would be ideal," she quipped and he chuckled. For a moment his eyes lost that icy gleam and he simply looked at her.

"You seemed…lonely…like me," he mused and Tauriel blinked, surprised.

"You? Lonely?" She shook her head, a smirk playing about her lips. "I hardly think an Elf such as you would be lonely." She quipped and Morndir tilted his head, a curious frown gracing his face.

"Oh? How so?" He smoothly lifted himself from the dummy, approaching her. She lifted one brow, noticing how the gleam was back in his eyes.

"You are not the type." She replied simply and Morndir's eyes darkened.

"And what _type _am I?" His tone was serious so Tauriel weighed her answer, sizing hipm up.

"You're the type you puts on a facade, who doesn't let anyone in." She could tell her answer had caught him off guard and he stared at her but a moment later his composure was back in place.

"You are the one to talk, Captain." He murmured and Tauriel stiffened, her guard coming up. He tilted his head once more, his eyes roaming over her face, "They say you fell in love iwith a dwarf," he stepped closer and reached up, touching the pouch that hung about her neck, "that you defied the King in order to save him, yet in the end he died. The King pardons you, and considering you were equipped with daggers but are now practicing with Elven twin blades, I assume he now teaches you to wield them." Tauriel pulled away, glaring at him as he finished talking.

"You presume much," she retorted but he smirked.

"It is the truth," he replied but dropped his hand, fixing her with calm eyes. "I simply wish to know why."

"Why? It already seems like you know." She went to move past him but halted as he spoke.

"I know the facts, not the heart, and you Captain," a slow, sad smile touched his lips, "keep yours to yourself, well hidden." He commented and Tauriel glanced sharply back at him.

"You certainly are bold," she growled and he chuckled.

"Yes, yes I know. Let us just say that the events that have transpired in my life have forced me to become quite bold, or blunt, either way it can be considered the same thing." He waved his hand dismissively. "Besides," he placed his hands behind his back, smirking at her, "If I was truly aggravating you, Captain, you would not hesitate to dispatch me and throw me in the dungeons. Now would you?" He inquired and Tauriel pursed her lips.

"I may just reconsider," she responded and Morndir chuckled.

"Yes, I suppose you might." He bowed to her, placing his hand over his heart. "Apologies," when he straightened he gave her another small smile, "I am curious by nature," he glanced down at her swords, "If I may, I would like to fence with you." Tauriel pondered it but shook her head.

"No." She answered and Morndir frowned.

"No?" He repeated and tilted his head. "If you are waiting for King Thranduil I am afraid he will not show." Morndir stated and Tauriel glanced at him.

"Oh?" She uttered and Morndir bobbed his head slightly.

"He seemed to be discussing important matters with Lord Elrond." He replied but Tauriel continued to eye him.

"And how would you know this?" She ran her eyes over him but Morndir simply shrugged one shoulder.

"I happened to pass by them in halls. They seemed to be quite serious." He pivoted, his eyes dancing over the practice swords still upon the rack. "I am a commendable swordsman," he tilted his head so that he looked at her over his shoulder, "It would be my honor to teach you a few things, that is," he turned back to face her, "if you would let me." Despite his words she hesitated and her face must have showed how little she thought of him for a sad smile touched his lips. "I know why you hesitate, concerning last night's events I too would be wary of an Elf such as me but I assure you," the sad smile turned genuine, "I only have the earnest of intentions." Tauriel pondered her situation, for if Morndir was right then Thranduil would not have time to instruct her today and she did not wish to cause him further trouble considering what had happened last night. Yet she still needed to learn how to wield her swords. It wouldn't hurt if she practiced with him and besides, it would give her a chance to learn more about this mysterious Elf and why he acted the way he did.

"Very well," she agreed and Morndir's face lit with light. He circled back to the rack, grasping two swords and rotating back to face her.

"Let us begin then," he answered and Tauriel lifted her swords. They lunged at one another, each easily parrying the other's blows. Morndir must have been surprised at her skill, for his brows rose and a shocked smile graced his features.

"My, my," he breathed as he turned about her, deflecting the blow she placed at his shoulder, "you are a passionate fighter, Captain." He ducked beneath her swing, stepping clear but Tauriel only grunted as she lunged after him.

"Another compliment, Morndir?" She teased while going for his shin. The Elf laughed while leaping clear, his blade going for her hip but she flicked her wrist, sending the blade in the opposite direction.

"Of course, Captain." He retorted and his eyes flashed as she swung for his head. He seemed to bend, his body rippling like water and before Tauriel realized it he was next to her, his sword neatly pressed against her ribs. "You lower your guard when you make moves such as those," he stepped away, his chest rising and falling with his slightly ragged breaths, "Remember, you're not fighting with your daggers anymore. Swords have a longer reach, forcing you to maintain a certain distance from your opponent, unless of course you're about to run them through. Here," he moved her feet apart, lifting her other arm, "bend your wrist here." He placed his fingers around her wrist, "And your arm here," his hand slid up to her elbow. "Keep it high that way you guard yourself against the enemy's parry. Usually you'll face an opponent with only one weapon, but never underestimate them. It is better to be safe than sorry." He stepped away, reaching for her other arm. "When you swing however, you leave yourself unbalanced. If you keep your feet apart you spread your weight, keeping it evenly distributed." He nodded, satisfied. "Now," he lifted his swords, "attack me again."

She did as he asked and this time when she went for his head and he dodged the attack but she was able to parry the blow he would have inflicted to her ribs. As he stepped clear, the swords singing, he nodded again. "Good, again." They did this exercise several times; changing the footwork and attack patterns until her body instinctively reacted. She parried his blows with ease, gaining ground on him and Morndir grinned. Before she could wonder why, he pivoted, his foot shooting out to catch her shins. She toppled forward but instead of landing face first into the dirt she used the momentum to roll up onto her feet. Twisting about she lifted the swords, catching his own as he went to strike at her head. She shoved him back, getting to her feet and he chuckled.

"You're a quick learner," he observed and Tauriel smirked at him despite how her breath was coming hard and fast.

"Thank you," she stood but she could tell the lesson was not done.

"You have more skill than I thought you would have, Captain." He commented and Tauriel lifted her brow.

"Oh?" She tested and he smirked at her. "Shall we go again?" She challenged and Morndir dipped his head.

"It'd be my privilege." With that he lunged at her but she was ready. They seemed to dance about the clearing, testing each other's limits. Tauriel found that despite her earlier impression of the Elf she found he was quite likeable. If he found an area that was lacking in skill he would stop the lesson, correcting her mistakes and he was right, she _was _a quick learner. The swords no longer felt heavy and awkward, instead feeling like an extension of her arm and she found that she quite liked the sensation of steel meeting steel.

Time faded but Tauriel did not mind. Adrenaline sang through her veins, making her feel alive and after such a long time of doing nothing, of remaining idle and placid, she felt her spirits lift. A genuine, breathless laugh broke free of her lips as she chased after Morndir who was rapidly losing ground as she pressed her advantage. He grunted, giving her a confused frown as he half heartedly smiled. He gave more ground, retreating in order to gain his balance but Tauriel would not let him escape so easily. She pressed him, her arms a blur of movement as she fought but Morndir still managed to parry her blows.

Overhead the sky darkened; the roll of thunder signifying the oncoming rain but they did not stop. A few moments later the clouds opened up on them, the rain pouring down and Tauriel laughed, for the feeling of the cool rain against her feverish skin was invigorating.

"Do you wish to stop, Captain?" Morndir asked while thrusting at her. Tauriel grinned, deflecting the blow and inflicting one of her own which was easily parried.

"Do you?" She quipped and her answer was a mischievous grin. They continued on as the other Elves quickly left to avoid the pouring rain. The two Elves whirled about the clearing as the rain soaked them but Tauriel did not care. In an odd sense she felt as if she was a child again, playing in the rain once more but this time instead of splashing in the puddles she now wielded steel.

Tauriel found out that Morndir was not lying when he said he was a commendable swordsman but she couldn't help but be pleased when she saw him frown, obviously taken back by how much she had learned in such a short amount of time. Finally she watched his composure crack and he overstepped, lunging at her in desperation. Seeing her chance she took it, hooking her blade behind his leg and his eyes widened in surprise as she flipped him onto his back.

He landed with a grunt and she stood over him, a pleased smile on her lips as she rested the tip of her sword on his chest. It rose with hard, short breaths but she chuckled, for her own rose just as hard and fast.

"Do you yield?" She questioned and Morndir smirked.

"I yield." He replied and Tauriel smiled at him, removing her sword. As she did her head suddenly pounded, her vision growing fuzzy. She blinked, shaking it as Morndir stood.

"Captain?" She could hear the concern in his voice but she waved him off.

"I'm fine, just…a little tired, that's all." She straightened, giving him another small smile. Morndir did not seem convinced.

"Apologies, I should not have pressed you as hard as I did." He murmured and Tauriel chuckled. The rain had seemed to intensify and she suddenly noticed that she was quite cold.

"You sound as if I am weak child, yet who bested who?" She teased, forcing herself to remain upright, and Morndir snorted.

"Tis true, but you're pale," he reached up, placing his hand over her forehead, "and warm." He noted but a crash of thunder sounded overhead as lightning streaked across the sky. Tauriel cleared her throat, stepping away from him.

"I thank you for your concern but I assure you I'm—" her legs were trembling and she leaned against her sword but it gave out underneath her. She would have fallen had Morndir not caught her and she ducked her head, embarrassed. Another clap of thunder sounded and Morndir whispered a light curse.

"I should have known better than to let you continue in the rain," he shook his head, "you're soaked." Before Tauriel could protest he'd scooped her into his arms.

"Morndir you—"

"Be silent, Captain. I am to blame for your condition, at least let me carry you to the infirmary to be seen to." He didn't wait for her answer and left the clearing and Tauriel silently thanked her good fortune that the other Elves had departed so that she would not be seen in such a state. Morndir was silent as he carried her to the infirmary but as he stepped through the door, Elanor turned to face them. Her face scrunched into a frown and she gestured with her hand to one of the more private beds.

"Place her there," her voice was firm, her eyes holding irritation and Tauriel gave her a bashful smile.

"Apologies, her state of condition is due to my foolishness," Morndir offered but Elanor waved him away.

"It does not matter, for I feel Captain Tauriel is partly to blame as well." Elanor eyed her, a knowing gleam in her eyes and Tauriel pressed her lips together but did not reply. Elanor checked her bandage, clucking her tongue in disapproval but straightened.

"Here, wrap yourself in this until I can get you dry clothes." She handed Tauriel a blanket before looking to Morndir. "I suggest you leave before I return and get out of those soaked clothes before you too, catch a fever." Elanor advised and Morndir dipped his head in respect.

"Of course," he replied and Elanor gave a small grunt of acceptance before turning and striding out of the room. Tauriel watched her go, noting how she was shivering but she looked to Morndir, who was as soaked as she.

"Thank you, Morndir, but Elanor is right. I am to blame as well," she gave him a small smile, "I must admit, when I first met you I was skeptical but I see now that I judged you too harshly. I am sorry for that." She admitted and Morndir stared at her, his face unreadable.

"Rest well, Captain." He murmured before bowing low, placing his palm over his heart.

"Thank you, Morndir." She called after him as he turned, quickly making his exit, yet as he left she thought she saw something cross his face.

Regret…

The thought made her frown, for what did an Elf such as Morndir have to regret? Her body shivered and she curled tighter into the blanket, patiently waiting for Elanor to return but she couldn't help the feeling of embarrassment that blossomed in her chest. She should have known better than to practice in the rain, she wasn't a child, she was Captain of the Guard and had to act like it. She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and rolling onto her back.

At least no one had seen them…

Or at least she _thought _ no one had seen them…

VVVV

"Your taste in wine is always exquisite, King Thranduil." Lord Elrond noted as he took a small sip from his glass. Thranduil let his face relax politely as he too, drank from the wine.

"Your compliment is appreciated, Lord Elrond." Thranduil peered over the reports, his lips thinning at the corners at the details they held.

"I can see from your expression that you are not pleased," Lord Elrond gave a small, weary sigh as he rested against the back of the high backed chair. "Yet it is the harsh reality we must face." Thranduil did not reply, his eyes still roaming over the script.

"A harsh reality it is," he whispered before raising his eyes to Lord Elrond's. "Are you certain of this?" He questioned and though most would have taken offense Lord Elrond did not. He knew the Elvenking well enough to know that his cold demeanor was due to years of suffering, of experiencing loss, and Elrond did not hold it against him.

"Yes, I saw the creature with my own eyes." He answered and Thranduil remained silent, pondering the situation. Before he could offer up a reply there was a loud rap of knocking on the door. Thranduil's lips thinned in irritation and he reached for the goblet of wine.

"Enter," he called while lifting it to his lips. An Elf quickly entered, bowing his head in respect.

"Apologies for the intrusion, my lords, but it concerns Captain Tauriel." At the mention of the red haired Elf, Thranduil narrowed his eyes, his face becoming hard and cold.

"What of her?" His tone was hard and the Elf quickly complied

"Her condition has relapsed, the healer, Elanor—"

Thranduil stood, so sharp and suddenly that the chair he'd been sitting in toppled backwards.

"Excuse me, Lord Elrond. I must see to the condition the Captain is in." He didn't wait for Lord Elrond to answer, though he caught the lord dipping his head in acknowledgement before he swept from the room, the Elf who'd informed him scrambling out of the way. His footsteps were swift and silent upon the stones and in only a few moments he was before the infirmary's door. Without a second thought he pushed it open and what he saw halted him in his tracks.

Tauriel…

The red haired Elf stood before him, the healer stationed in front of her but with his keen eyes he did not miss the creamy flesh that was exposed to him.

For after all…

She was naked…

Tauriel's green eyes widened and her cheeks flushed, a cry of shock flying from her lips but Thranduil stiffened, quickly snapping his head away just as Elanor turned to face him.

"Sire!" Her voice was hard, full of scolding and Thranduil cleared his throat, putting his back to them. He could hear curses flying from Tauriel's lips as she covered herself and Thranduil made a mental note to himself to at least announce his presence before striding through anymore doors.

"I heard that the Captain's condition had relapsed," he stated, hoping to break the suddenly tense air.

"Yes, with a slight fever. I sent an Elf to inform you that the Captain would require rest and—"

"A slight fever?" Thranduil turned, finding that Tauriel now sat on the bed, her form shivering but covered with a blanket. He took in her flushed face, her damp hair and frowned.

What had she been doing?

Playing in the rain?

"Yes, a slight fever, nothing to be overly concerned about, my lord." Elanor stated and Thranduil's eyes flashed to hers.

"Perhaps when you send an Elf to inform me, you should specify the condition the patient is in more thoroughly." He snapped but his eyes went to Tauriel. "What were you doing? You are soaked," he stepped towards the cot but Tauriel looked sheepishly away.

"I…I was—"

"She was out in the rain," Elanor interjected and though Thranduil could not see her he felt something enter her gaze, as if she knew something he did not, "practicing with the Elf, Morndir, I believe." She added and Thranduil's chest tightened. Tauriel looked away, but her eyes darted up past him to look at Elanor. "Excuse me, my lord, but I'll take my leave to gather the Captain some new clothes." Elanor added in and Thranduil heard her exit but he did not reply, simply staring at Tauriel.

"That," his voice was soft, "is how you caught your fever? By behaving like a child?" His tone hardened and he ignored the fact that she'd been practicing with the Elf, Morndir.

"Sire, I—"

"I rushed here, thinking that you had seriously fallen ill when—" he stopped talking, realizing what he'd been about to say before he'd said it. He glanced away from her, clamping his jaw shut to keep more idiotic words from spewing out. A disappointed and irritated sigh slid from his body and he shook his head.

"Ap-Apolgies sire, I did not mean—"

"No, of course you didn't." He whispered while turning back to face her. "Forget that particular piece of news, what were you doing practicing with Morndir?" He challenged and at his tone, harsh and his disdain painfully obvious for the mysterious Elf, made Tauriel's eyes sharpen with anger.

"He graciously offered, my lord, and considering you were taking care of other matters, I did not wish to disturb you or cause you anymore hindrances." Though her words her polite and seemed genuine he knew by the rebellious gleam in her eyes that she did not mean them entirely.

"So you decided to fence in the rain?" He inquired; his tone patronizing. Tauriel lifted her chin, exposing the long column of her throat and Thranduil couldn't help how his eyes were drawn to the smooth skin.

He wanted to kiss it…

Run his teeth and lips along it…

To taste the delicate flesh with his tongue…

He inwardly started, silently cursing himself for his stupidity.

"Not entirely, my lord, it was I who continued the fencing lesson, not Morndir." Her words only proved to irritate him more, for she seemed to be defending the Elf, who had tried to take certain freedoms with her the night before at the celebration.

"Was he such a grand teacher then?" He bit out and Tauriel blinked, confused perhaps at his rash behavior.

"He has taught me many things, things I would deem of use." Tauriel stared at him with naked innocence and he clamped his jaw.

Why was he so edgy?

His body was coiled tight, ready to spring, while his nerves felt raw. He shifted, placing his hands behind his back and forced himself to remain calm and collected.

"Very well," he murmured and he narrowed his eyes at her, "If the Elf Morndir is held in such a high esteem by you then perhaps he can find the time to teach you. I have other matters I need to attend," he ignored the suddenly hurt look that crossed her face, "Take time to recover, but be present at tonight's honoring for the fallen." He ordered and twisted to face the door. "It will not do to have the Captain of the Guard in bed because she was so foolish as to play in the rain." He quipped, his tone dripping acid but he refused to feel guilty as he swept from the infirmary, slamming the door behind him with good measure. The Elves that were gathered in the hall jumped, all staring at him with a small measure of fear in their eyes, but he ignored them.

Foolish…

That's what she was…

That's what _he _was…

To become nearly undone by simply glimpsing a mere spectacle of her flesh but at the thought, the memory of a pale thigh leading to a curved hip, of the quivering flesh that had adorned her throat and collarbone and the small hint of her subtle breasts…

He shook his head, dispelling the images but they did not seem to leave him; not entirely. They haunted him, constantly whispering at the back of his mind. He gnashed his teeth together as he entered his private quarters, reaching for a glass of wine to wet his suddenly parched throat.

And that blasted Elf Morndir…

His brows knit together as his fingers clutched the goblet. He felt the glass strain and he blinked, realizing that he'd just been moments away from splintering yet another one. He set it back upon the table, turning from it. He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, forcing long, deep breaths in and out of his lungs. He slowly calmed but as he calmed he saw how he'd reacted and he winced, ashamed of himself. He'd allowed anger to fuel his actions, but it had been petty anger, one not worthy of a King.

Surely he hadn't been…

Jealous?

He swore at the thought, looking for the wine again but as he reached for it he knew it would not solve his problems. He had to be careful, place her at arm's length once more and not allow himself the luxury of confiding in her. For deep down he felt a hollow feeling settling in his gut.

For if he confided in her…

He'd grow to need her…

And the thought terrified him…

VVVV

Morndir was patient…

He had to be in _his _line of work…

He leaned against the pillar, his eyes trained on the far window. The rain had now slowed to a drizzle, the soft sound a comfort to him. The storms would pass by tonight, leaving clear skies and the fresh smell of earth and rain behind.

"Were you successful?" A voice whispered from behind him. Morndir did not turn to look, keeping his eyes on the window.

"I may have earned a fraction of her trust, but it is as I told you before," he shifted, crossing his arms over his chest, "it will take time." His answer was replied with a hiss.

"And it is as I told you before; we do not have time. If you cannot earn the She-Elf's trust," Morndir bristled at the form of address he'd used for Tauriel, "then simply draw her away and kill her. You will be ferreted from the Kingdom soon afterwards, your pocket lined." He finished and Morndir's voice was deadly soft as he replied.

"Is that what you wish to happen for me to disappear after my task is done?" He ventured and the icy silence was his answer.

"I see you as a bane to my existence and to that of your mother's good memory, who gave her life in order to bring you into this world. Your sole purpose is to obey me. Accomplish your task soon, before King Thranduil grows suspicious." With that he was gone and Morndir was left alone in the halls.

It was odd…

What he was feeling…

He'd always accepted his father's coldness towards him, for he understood that he blamed him for his beloved wife's death, but this…

He frowned, not recognizing the emotions that flowed through him. Could it be disdain? Was it regret? He sighed. The Captain with her fiery hair and captivating green eyes wasn't making his job any easier, especially with her little scene in the infirmary. He'd only helped her because he needed to know more information about the King and she had the ties and know how. He'd taught her the art of the sword because there had been nothing better to do and he knew Elves like Tauriel, or so he thought. They responded with fighting, not words. He'd overstepped at the celebration and so he had to make up for it and earn her trust another way. By her confession that she'd judged him too harshly he must have done so, so why did he feel as if lead had settled within his gut?

Guilt…

He shook his head…

Oh this was going to be fun…

Immeasurably so…

VVVV

Tauriel didn't like these things…

But in reality who did?

She stood at the head of the Royal Guard, garbed in one of her finest tunics. It was a deep purple, nearly black, and was stitched with silver. Her hair was pulled back in her usual style and she wore a silver belt about her waist. Tonight she must look the part, she had reminded herself. She was no longer the Elf from the night before and she would never be so again. Nevertheless she felt eyes on her but when she turned her head to meet the hushed murmurs the eyes would dart away, refusing to meet her own.

What could they be talking about now?

She didn't have time to ponder it for there was a stir amongst the crowd. Tauriel quickly found the source of it. The Elvenking had entered, dressed entirely in black. His face was forlorn and cold as his imposing figure easily cut a swath through the crowd. Lord Elrond and the group of Elves that had traveled with him followed, their heads bowed.

Soft, lilting notes began to play and Tauriel instinctively recognized it as a hymn to the fallen. Silence engulfed the Elves as they followed after their King, their heads bowed in reverence. The notes tugged at her heart and Tauriel, leading the Elves that made up the Royal Guard, followed suit. Reaching up she grasped the pouch that still hung from her neck, forcing to keep the tears at bay.

She would not shed them here…

Not yet…

They wove through the winding halls until they reached the outer gardens. There they flowed outside, gathering around a small clearing that had been cleared, pure white flowers growing around it.

In the middle stood statue…

It was an elf and a warrior, but of what sex Tauriel could not tell for it was cloaked, the face covered. The statue stood proudly, seemingly like a guardian, with a spear in one hand, a bow across its back and twin swords upon its hips. Tauriel ran her eyes over the spectacle, a sense of pride overtaking her. At the feet of the Elf was a large slab where names were carved into it. There were so many that they all seemed to flow together into one.

Eternity seemed to pass before the small hymn ended and silence covered the clearing like a blanket. Tauriel waited, as did the other Elves but her eyes were drawn to Thranduil. He stood so silent and still, like the statue. His arms were at his sides, his black robes a stark contrast to his pale skin and hair.

He seemed to resemble both the moonlight and darkness…

Then finally…

He spoke…

"We have lost many in the struggle for balance, for freedom against the evil that threatens to cover our land in shadow. The brave, the valiant, will be forever remembered here, in this place of starlight." He lifted his eyes to the heavens before slowly lowering them back to the statue, "They will also be remembered in our memories," his voice was but a whisper yet Tauriel knew all could hear for there was no other sound besides the Elvenking's softly spoken words, "in our songs, and in our hearts." He reached up, placing his fingers atop the stone, "In this time of darkness, let their light shine through," his fingers slid from the slab, "let their songs of bravery be heard." As the words parted from his lips Lord Elrond bowed his head.

Slowly the Elves began to sing, their voices blurring together to form one. Tauriel joined in as they sung of their loss, of their pain and of all those lost to them and she let the tears flow then. Softly the song ended but as the last notes faded away Tauriel saw Thranduil's face and the sight shocked her.

Pain…

Yet as the song ended it was gone, hidden beneath a mask of ice. Thranduil straightened, turning back to face the Elves that had gathered there. He said nothing, flowing from the clearing and as silent as they'd come, they left the same way. When they entered the hall they waited, their attention upon Thranduil as an attendant quickly gave wine to him and the awaiting Lords that had arrived. He stared into the depths, his face momentarily showing remorse before it vanished.

"To the fallen," he murmured while lifting the wine to his lips. The Elves echoed his words, mirroring his actions. There was a pause, one that weighed the heaviest it seemed, before it slipped away as Thranduil spoke once more. "Let us honor their lives with songs and celebration." He gave another toast, his face still grave but his words were all that were needed. Music broke out over the hall and soon dances and laughter broke out. Tauriel had positioned herself by the door, not wishing to take part in another round of dancing. As she did so she felt someone brush her arm and turned her head to find Morndir standing there.

"I see that you are looking considerably better, Captain." He observed with a friendly smile. Tauriel returned it, feeling the weight that clutched at her heart melting away slightly at the simple action.

"Thank you, Morndir. It was foolish of me to act the way I did," she stated but Morndir waved his hand.

"I instigated you act as such, let us simply forget the matter, shall we?" He proposed and Tauriel felt her smile grow.

"I would like to however," she felt the chilling glare and did not need to turn her head to know that the King was glaring at her, "I fear that I may have caused an unwelcomed event to happen, one that may cause problems for you." At her words Morndir's brows lifted in curiosity.

"Oh?" He asked and Tauriel bit the inside of her cheek but continued.

"When I told the King that I had been fencing with you, he said that it would perhaps be best if I were to learn the art of the sword from you." Morndir blinked but Tauriel rushed on, "I apologize if I have put you in a difficult situation. I am sure that you have other matters that need your attention therefore I can speak with the King and—" Morndir shook his head, lifting his hand to cut her off.

"No, no, it would by pleasure, Captain." He grinned, "Though I am afraid it will not take as long as I would like it to, considering you are a quick study." He commented and Tauriel gave a relieved sigh.

"Thank you, Morndir. I do apologize for—"

"Stop apologizing, Captain." Morndir smoothly interrupted again, his lips spreading wide in a teasing grin. "It does not suit you." He murmured and Tauriel lifted a brow but decided to drop the subject.

"Very well then," she murmured but couldn't help the feeling of remorse that assaulted her. A small part of her, more so than she may have previously thought, had hoped that Morndir would refuse the offer so that she would still have the opportunity to have Thranduil teach her personally but now…

She shook her head, instead concentrating on what Morndir had just said.

"Apologies, what did you say?" She asked and Morndir gave her a knowing grin.

"Tis alright," he bumped her lightly with his shoulder, "I am sure you are tired and do not wish your ear to be gnawed off by idle conversation." His words made her snort.

"Then do not leave, for I fear I would have to endure such a thing if I were to speak with any other here." The words left her mouth without her thinking but Morndir threw his head back and laughed, a genuine sound that made her at ease.

"Even the King?" Morndir chuckled and Tauriel lifted her eyes to where the Elvenking stood across from her. He did not look at her, for he was holding a conversation with some of the Lords. Her heart suddenly twisted about inside her chest and she looked back to the floor.

"No, why would you say that?" She asked and Morndir gave a thoughtful sigh.

"Well, it always appears as if you do not share the King's ideas, finding them perhaps empty or hollow." At his words her eyes shot up to his face and he gave her an apologetic smile. "I am not saying that you do or that the King has such ideas." He offered but she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Then what makes you say such things?" She growled and Morndir shrugged one shoulder.

"It may just be your temper, Captain, but it seems to me that whenever you speak with the King, your conversations always end up in arguments. Do they always?" He questioned and Tauriel flexed her jaw, thinking.

Did they?

"Not always," she answered but even as she said the words she did not think them entirely true and by the look that decorated Morndir's face he must have thought the same.

"Hmm," he murmured but Tauriel just rolled her eyes.

"And what of you, Morndir?" She turned to face him, "Where do you hail from?" Her question made him stiffen and his face grew guarded.

"Nowhere in particular, I like to roam." He informed and Tauriel tilted her head.

"But where were you born?" She asked but he gave her a mischievous smirk.

"Are you trying to guess my age, Captain?" He clucked his tongue, "How rude of you," he murmured but he chuckled as she narrowed her eyes at him, "I was born in a small village towards the south. It has long been forgotten, to the point where I barely recall the name of it." He answered and she blinked.

"Oh," she turned her head as the crowd stirred and she watched as Thranduil left but what was odd was that no one followed after him, not even Lord Elrond or Arahaelon. Tauriel spied the Elf, looking after the King but he did not move from his spot along the wall. Instead she watched the older Elf's eyes dart to the opposite corner of where he stood and Tauriel followed his gaze. He was looking at Lord Daechir who was conversing with many of the lords, smiling and making merriment but he must have sensed Arahaelon's gaze.

The Elves stared at one another and Tauriel could feel the tension behind those gazes and she shifted, feeling uneasy. She looked up at Morndir, prepared to ask him another question but found that he too, was staring at Lord Daechir. The look in his eyes startled her, for in the dark blue depths she saw resentment and hate but also confusion.

Morndir must have noticed her looking at him and snapped his eyes down to hers. She mentally shook herself, smiling politely and acting as if she hadn't witnessed him staring at Lord Daechir.

"Apologies, I'm afraid I am feeling a little tired. Please excuse me," she whispered and Morndir nodded.

"Do you wish for me to escort you back to your quarters, Captain?" He offered but she shook her head.

"No, but thank you for the offer, Morndir. Shall I see you on the morrow?" She asked and the Elf nodded.

"If you are feeling up to it, Captain." He answered and she smirked at him.

"I trust I will be. _Quel du_, Morndir." She called over her shoulder as she swiveled to leave.

"_Quel du_, Captain. _Quel_ _esta_," he murmured and Tauriel left. The halls were silent, quiet, feeling suddenly empty. She sighed, reaching up and lightly rubbing her arm. It was healing, slowly, but it was healing and that's all she could ask for. Her feet carried her where they would as she let her mind wander. It wandered to when Thranduil had come barging into the infirmary as Elanor had helped her out of her sopping wet clothes. He'd thankfully hadn't been able to see her completely naked but the thought was embarrassing. Never in all her years of working for him had he seen anymore than what her tunic, breeches, and boots did not cover. Nothing else, but now he'd…he'd…she shook her head, cursing her flaming cheeks and Elanor, for dropping that piece of information of her practicing with Morndir.

What had she sought to do?

Make the King _jealous_?

The idea made her pause but as soon as it had entered her head she was shoving it out. Thranduil had said that training her would no longer be a bother, that he had other important matters to see to than train her and she _knew _that and that was why she had enlisted Morndir's help but she did not want Morndir to train her, she had wanted Thranduil to do so. Tauriel let out a hiss of irritation, shaking her head once more but as she did so she heard something. She stopped, tilting her head and listening.

Singing…

Someone was singing…

She shrugged a shoulder, prepared to keep going but the voice did not sound familiar to her. Curiosity prickled at her and she slowly followed the voice. It led her back to the statue and she crouched low behind the wall, watching the figure that sang. It was hid, for the torches had been extinguished, leaving the statue to be bathed starlight. Then the figure moved out of the shadows and she barely managed to still the gasp of surprise.

Thranduil…

And he was singing…

The Elvenking _never _sang, not since the death of his wife but he was now. The notes were low, lilting and serene and so beautiful that Tauriel felt her throat closing. He was a sight to behold, glittering like the stars overhead with a face so forsaken and lost that it tore at her heart.

Then she heard the words…

_You've come to rest beneath the stars…_

_To lay your head upon the earth…_

_Your body wrapped in leaves…_

_The place you go is in starlight…_

_You will feel pain no more…_

He drew out a small flower, the petals a glistening white and he placed it upon the slab of stone. His fingers trailed down, gently tracing the names.

_As you rest beneath the stars…_

_They'll shine down upon you…_

_Their light forever keeping you from the dark…_

_The place you go is in starlight…_

_You will feel pain no more…_

His head tipped back and Tauriel swallowed, tears whelming in her eyes as she watched the Elvenking's glisten, a single tear sliding down his pale cheek. His face looked so lonely, so forsaken, as if someone had abandoned him, deserting him in this life to go onto the next.

_For forever in the stars shall you sleep…_

The words were barely a whisper but as the haunting notes faded away his eyes closed and his fingers curled around the altar. His head bowed and Tauriel watched as his shoulders trembled.

The Elvenking of the Greenwood…

Was weeping…

VVVV

Thranduil heard the footsteps and he straightened, whirling to face the intruder but he stopped when he saw who it was.

Tauriel…

Perfect…

Just perfect…

He set his jaw, twisting his face away so that he could wipe the tears from his cheeks. Anger that he'd been caught openly weeping made his voice harsh, but hoarse and pathetically weak when he spoke.

"What are you doing here, Captain? Should you not be at the celebration?" He snapped, remembering as he stood across the room and watched her laugh and converse with Morndir. She'd dressed in her warrior garb once more but he was not a fool. He'd glimpsed what the tunic and trousers concealed and was now forever reminded that Tauriel was a maiden.

And a very beautiful one at that…

"I wished to retire early," her voice was soft but it was enough to draw him out of his thoughts. Her footsteps were silent as she crossed to him and despite the scent of the damp earth he could catch a whiff of her alluring scent. He clenched his jaw and turned back to face her, keeping his body stiff, but as he drank her in, her face soft and lit by the stars overhead, he felt his defenses shattering.

"Your rooms are in the opposite direction," he retorted, scrambling to rebuild his walls, but Tauriel just stared at him, compassion in her eyes.

"I heard singing," she whispered and her eyes flicked from his to the rose that lay upon the slab. "It's beautiful," she reached up but did not touch the rose, instead laying her fingers upon the names carved there. There was a long silence before she spoke again. "There are so many," she whispered and Thranduil looked away.

"Yes," he answered, "there are." He shifted, not knowing what to say or do but then she turned back to face him.

"Your song, it was beautiful," she stated and Thranduil clenched his jaw.

"It was not for your ears." He growled, turning away from her but Tauriel reached out, grasping his arm.

He froze…

She was touching him…

_She _was touching him…

"Wait," her grip loosened but she did not remove her hand, "please." She whispered and Thranduil somehow couldn't pull away from her even though it was an unspoken rule that _no one_ touched the King without his consent. Yet they remained like that before she uttered another question; one he knew she would eventually ask him after witnessing him shed tears. "Why do you weep alone?" She asked and he stared ahead, his eyes on the distant trees.

"As King you cannot allow others to see such emotions, to see such _weak _emotions," he uttered, his chest feeling hollow, but Tauriel's fingers tightened around his arm.

"_They_ _are_ _not weak_," she whispered and he could hear the fire in her voice. A smile twisted his lips, one that was filled with contempt and sorrow.

"Oh but they are," he lifted his eyes to the starry sky, "they leave a person weak, leave them exposed to the world and to others, they leave them to face what they most fear." He whispered and Tauriel stepped in front of him.

"That's why you have others to be there when you do." She was so close but a sad, perhaps tormented, laugh left his lips.

"And what happens when they see the person beneath? See that the person is only made up of scars, scars so deep that they cannot heal, that they can only fester and destroy the soul they've marred?" He murmured, his eyes looking into hers.

They were so green…

So deep…

He could lose himself in eyes such as those…

Tauriel reached up, her hand, so dainty and small yet holding such strength, pressed against his scarred cheek. Her thumb traced over his cheekbone, her eyes following the movement and he knew she could feel the warped and twisted tissue beneath yet she did not pull away in disgust.

"Let me see," she whispered and something in him gave. He let the enchantment fade, slowly exposing the charred and ripped skin beneath. Tauriel did not shrink from it, her eyes taking him in with calm and acceptance. He exposed all of him to her and she stared at him for what felt like centuries before her eyes came to his good one.

"This scar represents my soul," he whispered, "it's charred and twisted, that of a monster's." He murmured but a knowing smile touched Tauriel's lips.

"You are no monster," she whispered, her voice like the wind, and her fingers lingered upon his face before she dropped her hand. Her eyes misted for a fraction of a moment before they cleared but her voice wavered as she spoke again. "Scars may mark the flesh and some may go deeper, far deeper than what the eye can see," she reached up and placed her hand over her heart, her fingers pressing into the pouch that held Kili's lock of hair, "but all scars fade." Her other hand lifted and he watched it tremble as she placed it over his own, "They may define us, remind us of our pain but know this," her eyes watered and a single tear slid down her cheek, "we are more than our scars."

Slowly her hand fell away from him and she reached up, wiping away the tear. Tauriel turned from him and he watched her, unable to move or speak as she cleared her throat, straightening her shoulders. "I shall leave you now, sire." At the form of address he blinked, suddenly realizing that during their whole conversation she had not addressed him as a King should have been addressed. "I did intrude upon you grieving, apologies. _Quel du_, _Quel_ _kaima,_" she hesitated, "_Hir Vun_." With that she retreated, slipping back into the halls before he could call out to her.

He remained standing there, the stars above him shimmering. His mind was suddenly empty and he could think of nothing except the words she had spoken only moments before.

_We are more than our scars…_

Thranduil reached up, his fingers gently touching the damaged tissue and though he still felt a twinge of pain it was no longer so keen. It had dulled and though he did not know how long it would last, he was grateful nonetheless. His eyes travelled to the doorway Tauriel had disappeared through and he couldn't help the ironic smile that covered his lips.

So much for keeping her at arm's length…

He shook his head and casting one last long, lingering look at the statue and rose at its base he swiveled back around and left. His thoughts rested upon the red haired Elf and perhaps if he had not been so occupied he would have noticed the eyes that watched him from the shadows or the evil smirk that touched the onlooker's lips. The spy chuckled quietly, mirth filling their chest.

Things were going to get interesting…

TRANSLATIONS:

_Quel du: _Goodnight

_Quel_ _esta: _Rest well

_Quel_ _kaima: _Sleep well

_Hir Vun: _Beloved Lord

AUTHOR NOTE: Chapter Seven, hope you all like it! Thank you all for the reviews! Please continue to do so! ^.^


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